


My Husband is a Hitman?!

by Writer_Markilyn



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Background Character Death, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is V done, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, HBO Barry!AU, Hitman!Richie Tozier, I Die By My Own Sword, I did not proof read, It's just random events of their life, It's not a 'chaptered' fic, M/M, Married Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Married!Reddie, Murder, No Major Character Death, One Shot Collection, Pussywise doesn't exist in this fic, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a hitman with a heart, Smut, THE TRAUMA THE TRAUMA, Top Richie Tozier, and they have a Pomeranian fur baby, bc fck clowns, lots of childhood trauma mentions, they're married fam!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Markilyn/pseuds/Writer_Markilyn
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak was many things, but a fool was not one of them.  He could admit that he was a fool when he had been younger, a fool to believe that he was constantly ill and needed “medication”, a fool to think that chocolate ice-cream was superior to Super-Man ice cream, a fool to think that his friend of many years, who was now his husband, was just a normal person.Boy, was he wrong about the normal part regarding his husband, but it turns out, Eddie was ride or die for life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I watched Barry and I fell in love with Bill Hader being a murderer, soooooooooooooo may as well turn Richie into a killer too, so enjoy the domestic murderer Richie, who loves his Eds and depending how I feel OR if anyone wants it, I'll write that spicy chapter 2 c;
> 
> Pls validate me!!!

Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier was many things, but a fool was not one of them. He could admit that he was a fool when he had been younger, a fool to believe that he was constantly ill and needed “medication”, a fool to think that chocolate ice-cream was superior to Super-Man ice cream, a fool to think that his friend of many years, who was now his husband, was just a normal person.

Richie wasn’t a normal, boring person, he was a goofball, even now as a full-grown adult, but Eddie loved every joke and pun he made, even the ones that Richie managed to weasel into his vows, which had made Eddie cry with laughter that had made Richie cry laugh too until Beverly came up to hand them tissues with a proud smile on her face.

Yes, Eddie had been naïve at the time, looking back before their marriage, remembering all the crass jokes Richie had made about those missing kids in their hometown, the jokes about them being munched on by some deranged psychopath dressed in a clown suit in the sewer, he, along with their friends had just laughed at Richie’s dark sense of humor, as it was just Richie being Richie, and that was the greatest distraction during that morbid part of his childhood.

And up into Eddie’s mid-thirties, when he had Richie had a snuggly little home on the street corner, nestled away from prying eyes, big enough for the both of them and their adopted Pomeranian that was named Pompeii, Eddie had a boring, yet focused job of an accountant, and Richie was a top marketing realtor for home and for plots of land; they were practically the magazine perfect life, minus children.

No, Eddie was no fool, he just tried to be oblivious to all the crazy shit that surrounded his life until that chaotic energy slapped him in the face and made it his problem.

Everything was all peachy keen in Eddie’s white picket fence life, he had picked up Thai for dinner that night, since it was Friday, Richie should be home by now and Eddie wanted to surprise him. Eddie had unlocked the front door, about to push on through before Richie had suddenly appeared in the small crack the door had opened.

“Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie smiled, a little too much teeth for Eddie to feel at ease.

“What did you do?” Eddie asked him flatly, not moving to barge in, he stood a little agitatedly on the back porch of their home and his frown faltered when Richie looked a little hesitant; no quip, no stuttering, just a blank look. He tilted his head, “Did you break the toaster again?” Eddie asked him with an exasperated sigh.

That seemed to trigger something because the smile was slipping back into place and Richie shook his head, “Could you pretend to be a little shocked in a few minutes?” he asked, looking sheepish. “I wanted to clean up the kitchen a bit before you came home…but it looks like you surprised me,” Richie mused, tone a little forced with it towards the end.

“Well, I guess I can act being shocked like when Ben confessed his feeling to Beverly to us, so I guess I can do it for your sake too,” Eddie rolled his eyes. He loved the happy smile on Richie’s face, accepted the cheek kiss before the door was shut in his face, “Hurry! I got Thai waiting for us!” he chided loudly before moving to sit on their porch swing.

Eddie did end up timing it with his watch, it took Richie exactly 7 minutes and 48 seconds to reopen the backdoor, looking a little ruffled and winded, but greeted Eddie with a kiss on the cheek and pulling him inside.

“I’m not the best cleaner, but I tried,” Richie shrugged when he saw Eddie glancing around, the floor was a little damp and there was a lingering stench of bleach, which he missed the grimace that Eddie had on his face, Richie was in the fridge grabbing them drinks.

“You’ll get a B for effort, you sell houses, not clean them,” Eddie teased him, setting the plastic bag filled with two takeout boxes and spring rolls on the kitchen table. He grabbed forks from their silverware drawer and frowned when he saw a small red dot on the cream colored tile of the counter top; he grabbed a tissue and wiped it up, he’s seen enough blood in his lifetime, and a disgusted shiver up his spine, “Did you hurt yourself cleaning, Rich?” he asked, tossing the tissue into the trash and moved to the sink to grab the Clorox wipes from under the sink and scrubbed the countertop.

“Whoops, clumsy me,” Richie chuckled, fidgeting worriedly, which Eddie didn’t see. He hurriedly set the pitcher of lemonade on the kitchen table, running his hands across his jeans before heading towards the hall.

“Need me to patch you up?” Eddie asked when he put the stuff away. He frowned when he saw his husband hurrying away down the hall, “Richie?”

“Nah, I got it, Eds,” Richie called and had shut the bathroom door before Eddie could say anything else.

“Weirdo,” Eddie mused fondly, he divided their food up onto plates and poured the lemonade that Richie had pulled out of the fridge. He then went to their bedroom and opened the door, Pompeii was curled up on the edge of their bed, “Pompom, there you are,” he mused, patting their cream-colored dog.

Pompeii’s curly tail wagged at the attention, the little dog was awake and eager for attention.

Eddie chuckled and petted him twice more before changing out of his work clothes, changing into loose sweatpants and one of Richie’s larger shirts, the cotton worn down to softness and faintly smelled of his aftershave. He padded back out into the kitchen, he passed the bathroom and he could hear the showering running, which he frowned a little at, because they were just about to have an early dinner. He fed Pompeii and Eddie grabbed his book from the little basket that was pushed up against the wall, he would get some reading in before eating he supposed.

He had only started reading when he heard Pompeii whine and scratching at the basement door, “Hey, hey,” Eddie chided, “what are you doing, hm?” he asked, getting up, he saw that Pompeii was still trying to open the basement door.

Eddie sighed and got up, he collected Pompeii and held the compliant dog in one arm, he grabbed the doorknob with his other, “What’s all the excitement about, huh?” he asked, he was about to open the door when Richie’s hand covered his own. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin, “Jesus, Richie!” he gasped.

“Don’t go down there,” Richie said hurriedly, he saw the question on Eddie’s face. “There are mice, they must be coming in for the winter or something,” he said and saw the terror on Eddie’s face.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Eddie exclaimed. He wrinkled his nose, “I’m calling the exterminator in the morning,” he huffed. “Don’t open the door and we’re closing our bedroom door tonight, Pompeii is staying in with us, like fuck I’m letting our dog get rabies or some nasty disease!”

“It’s why you’re the smart one,” Richie cheekily said, kissing Eddie’s forehead. “C’mon, chow time!” he beamed and moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

Eddie relaxed a bit when the fresh smell of their body wash wafted over him and lingered after Richie had moved to sit down, “Is that what you were doing earlier? Making sure they weren’t in the kitchen?”

“Yea,” Richie nodded, “I heard scuffling on the basement stairs and must have scared them down into the cellar or something, I didn’t want you to freak out, but I couldn’t find them and I wanted to shower because I had been running around in the basement, sorry…”

“My hero,” Eddie drawled, but still fed Richie a spring roll in appreciation and laughed at Richie’s overjoyed groan of the food.

“So, you’re not going to believe the event I had today,” Richie started off after swallowing his food, a mischievous grin on his face.

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly, “What did you do?” he asked; worries of mice and blood stains became the furthest worry when Richie launched into his day about an absurd couple, who he was helping find a house to buy.

~~~

Their nightly routine was pretty much second nature at this point, Eddie washed the dishes, Richie dried and put them away, they made small talk about anything and everything, Eddie never got bored listening to Richie prattle about his ideas, he loved all their talks.

They watched Jeopardy, curled up on the couch together, Richie had made tea for Eddie, as Eddie was too busy with a crossword puzzle; halfway through, he found it a little odd that he was asking Richie for some help with words that he just couldn’t think off the top of his head.

Soon, after, they took a bedtime shower, Eddie was mostly nodding off at that point, especially when Richie worked his fingers through his hair with shampoo. Eddie didn’t really remember getting redressed for bed, but he was tucked under their soft duvet, Richie had kissed his forehead, murmuring softly that he was going to let Pompeii out for a potty break, and then Eddie was out like a light.

Richie patted Pompeii softly, “Watch over our Eddie Spaghetti,” he whispered, he put his finger up to his lips when the Pomeranian yipped at him. Richie glanced back at his husband one more time before slipping out bedroom door and closed it softly behind him and walked to the basement.

~~~

Eddie woke up feeling a little groggy and stuffy, he rubbed at his eyes, squinting at the morning light that came through the taupe curtains. He heard a sleepy rumble behind him and a warm arm snaked around his waist and warm lips pressed to his neck, “I feel sick,” he murmured.

“From the food? I felt a little sick too,” Richie said and heard Eddie hum in agreement. He kissed the top of Eddie’s head, “Want me to make you green tea with a bit of honey?”

“Please,” Eddie whined softly, snuggling his face into his pillow.

“Sure thing, Eds,” Richie said and wiggled out of bed to head to the kitchen. He felt a little guilty that Eddie didn’t feel well, but knew he’d be feeling better before noon. He yawned as he brewed the tea and he heard quiet shuffling, he smiled softly when he felt his husband’s face push between his shoulder blades, “I was gonna bring you tea in bed, you know, be your knight with a steamy mug of tea.”

“If I didn’t get up, I’d be in bed all day,” Eddie’s response to was mostly muffled due to his face being buried in Richie’s shirt. He stumbled his way to the kitchen chair, Pompeii prancing around his feet before lying across his slippers, “I’ll call the exterminator tomorrow.”

“Sure, babe, or I can call and you can just sleep off the ick,” Richie said as he gently deposited the mug of tea and stirred in a tablespoon of honey. “I’ll go take Pompy on a walk, you just get rest, Eds.”

Eddie sipped his tea, he didn’t like being coddled, but with Richie it was different, he realized when he was younger that any adoring attention from Richie was the proper attention he wanted, so he easily agreed, “Don’t get stopped by Martha on your walk, or she’ll steal you like she’s stolen every other married man on the block, that bitch,” he scoffed.

“I am a catch, Eddie-Bear,” Richie winked and heard Eddie groan at him. “Hey, RIP Ms. K, but it is a cute nickname she gave you.”

“Rich, that’s my _dead_ mother you’re mocking,” Eddie curtly reminded him, but it didn’t sting so much, his mother had been smothering, controlling, extremely manipulative, tried to keep him isolated by disproving of his friends, who treated him like a normal person, and not like he was made out of glass, people who liked him, despite his angry outbursts, and worries that had been embedded deep into his brain that still nagged at him today.

Okay, so he clearly still had some pent-up issues with his deceased mother. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll respect her in that she gave you that cute nickname and only that,” Richie relented before pausing, “oh, wait, no, I’ll respect her because she had you.”

“Buttering me up will not—_mmhph_!”

Richie cut him off with a kiss before pulling back with loud smack of lips, “Mmwah! Love you! Get some sleep!” he said loudly before crouching to look at their dog. “Come on Pompy! Let’s go for a walk!”

Their dog immediately shot up and darted towards the door, curly tail wagging wildly, looking at Richie expectantly.

Eddie grabbed his crossword book and drank his tea.

He couldn’t even process the definitions on the bottom of the page.

His eyes drifted over to the looming basement door, because it was only September, it was still humid and sticky out, it wouldn’t make any sense for critters to start coming in now, and Eddie always doublechecked the chicken wire in front of the basement plexiglass windows that he put on the outside and the inside of the house, so there was no way a family of mice could have gotten in without the front or back door being open.

Eddie took one last sip of his tea, glanced at the back door that Richie left out and back at the basement door, he drummed his fingers on the surface of the table before abruptly standing up and moved to stand in front of the basement door.

“This is my fucking house and I’m not scared to make sure my house wasn’t invaded by some fucking disease-ridden rodents,” Eddie hissed to himself, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe Richie, but it hurt to think that Richie would lie to him at the same time.

He opened the basement door and flicked on the lights, hesitating and listening for any scurrying sounds, but all was clear, minus the fact that he got assaulted by the smell of bleach and Eddie’s eyes watered from the heaviness of it, which he glanced down and saw that there was a door slide that was under the door to stop the smell from coming through the house.

Did Richie try to gas them out…or was there something more to it?

Eddie rubbed at his chin thoughtfully before braving up to go down the wooden stairs, this couldn’t be as bad as the time he and his friends had gone deep down into the sewers under Derry, looking for Bill’s missing little brother, Georgie and the second time for their childhood friend Beverly. He was an adult now and the only monster there had been was a high school bully had flown off the rails of sanity and picked off little kids because they were easy targets.

Finally getting over his irrational fears, Eddie practically marched down the stairs and stood at the bottom, the concrete was cold enough to almost seep through the cushy soles of his house slippers and through the horrid, strong smell of bleach was the usual musty smell of the basement, and the combined smells was enough to make Eddie feel a little green around the gills.

He’d hurry up and satisfy his curiosity, Eddie pattered through the basement, passing their washer and dryer that were set up in the corner, seeing their plastic storage boxes filled with winter clothes they’d they soon be pulling to their room to cycle out their summer clothes, other boxes were marked sharpie that Eddie remembered Richie labeling, instead of using Eddie’s label maker from when they were moving from their first apartment together to this house.

A warm fluttering feeling of those happy memories made Eddie feel brave to be in the basement alone, even though he had come down here plenty of times before, but most of the time his mind was focused on laundry, sorting and organizing it into the washer, and making sure they didn’t lose any socks to the dryer troll.

Nothing seemed out of place, Eddie couldn’t hear anything and saw the last place to check, which was the cellar that Eddie usually kept padlocked and lo and behold, the lock was undone, it was hanging on the latch and he swallowed nervously as he crept forward, and he took a slow breath before sliding the padlock out of the latch and pushed it back and slowly pulled open the door slowly.

Eddie breathed easier when nothing came rushing out at him, he kept most their power tools in here, along with their tree trimmer and gardening tools, as they didn’t have a shed yet, which was going to be a next summer project.

He did a cursory glance to each wall and he frowned, stepping into the cellar, they had tarp that they used for the fall to rake their leaves on and they’d haul it to the front yard and do the same thing before bagging the leaves and putting them on the curb, Eddie always sprayed it down with the hose and let it dry overnight before rolling it up and keeping it that way with bungee cords, but the tarp was missing, along with the electrical tape, and the baggy of zip-ties Eddie used to keep hanging wires orderly and out of the way in the basement.

Eddie coughed weakly, before sucking in a deep lungful of bleach contaminated air, his eyes watering; what was his husband _doing_? He hurried out of the cellar and reset the lock how he found it before hustling back upstairs, shut the basement light off, and quickly closed the door, he peeked out the kitchen window and saw Richie crossing the sidewalk with Pompeii.

His panic attack hit him much faster than he anticipated and Eddie all but fled to the hallway bathroom, he found the medicine drawer where he kept his inhaler, he hasn’t used it in so many months, because he believed he didn’t need it, since it was just another lie fed by his mother, but this was stricken fear; Richie was being suspicious and Richie’s mind immediately went to that his husband was involved in some dirty work and had disposed of a body with their fucking seasonal tarp that Eddie specifically bought for the damn dead leaves, not for dead bodies and nonetheless, wrapped the body up in their basement and sterilized the area with his kitchen bleach!

He shook the inhaler before taking a couple puffs, trying to calm himself down, he heard the kitchen door open and close, the jingle of Pompeii’s collar, Richie singing off tune to one of Fleetwood Mac’s songs, and Eddie was seeing dark dots in his vision.

At some point, Eddie had slid to the ground, leaning back against the bathtub, and he glanced down and saw he lost a slipper and he whined unhappily about that, he heard Richie’s singing pause in the hall, then hurried footsteps were coming down the hall to his very obvious fast and loud breathing.

Richie had rounded into the bathroom, holding the lost slipper, his eyes widened from behind his glasses and dropped the footwear before moving carefully to kneel by Eddie, “Eddie, sweetheart, what happened?” he asked, before shaking his head quickly, “No, no, don’t answer, don’t think, just c’mere, I know you don’t want to move, but I gotta get behind you,” he coaxed.

Eddie’s heart was hammering in his chest, would Richie kill him too? Wrap him all up in tarp and tie it all nice with electrical tape and dump his body somewhere to rot and decay? He made a distressed sound as Richie slid behind him, his back to Richie’s chest, his husband was murmuring soothingly into his ear to try to match his breathing, one warm hand was wrapped around his free one, lacing their fingers together, Richie’s other hand rested over his chest. 

“_Eddie_,” Richie stressed, sounding genuinely frightened after listening to another minute of his husband’s gasping breath, “do you need to go to the hospital?” he pressed urgently. He saw Eddie shakily decline at the question, “If you can’t control your breathing in the next three to five minutes, I’m taking you,” Richie frowned, he was checking Eddie’s pulse that was still hammering under his touch.

“No!” Eddie gasped out. He would be _fine_, fine with the fact that he thought his husband was a murderer or a clean up guy for the said murder that apparently happened in their kitchen and basement! Eddie almost vomited at the thought of Richie up to his elbows in blood, it was already bad enough remembering the time when he and his friends had gone to Beverly’s apartment, finding her dad dead in the bathroom from multiple stab wounds, the blood had been sluggishly sliding across the dirty white tile.

He threw up anyway, just barely making it to the toilet; the ringing in his ears muted Richie’s frantic words. Eddie blearily stare down at the bile, he hadn’t eaten other than the tea he had drank earlier, oh, God, what if Richie had poisoned him?

A warm hand was rubbing his back soothingly, as the other gently patted his mouth with a damp washcloth and Eddie flinched, because while his brain was freaking the fuck out, it was also some weird instinct his body went into when Richie was being overly domestic with him, caring for him, loving him in a way that made Eddie feel special and adored.

The feeling slowly made his lungs stop feeling like they were going to burst.

Given, the exertion and burn were still there with each intake of air, but Eddie could breathe much easier this time, he hesitantly looked over to Richie and his heart broke at the fear and worry written across his beloved’s face, “Rich,” he rasped.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie,” Richie looked on the brink of tears. He gathered Eddie into his arms, tucking his husband’s face against his neck and Richie breathed in the still lingering scent of the apple scented shampoo he had washed Eddie’s hair with from last night. He slowly pulled back, seeing Eddie’s watery eyes, “Sweetheart, what _happened_?” he sounded exasperated, but the worry was heavy in his words.

Eddie peered into those deep, dark eyes that he thought were bottomless, but always filled with joy and love, but now they stared at Eddie with such fear and sadness that Eddie could only hiccup out a sob before holding Richie to him; he couldn’t lose his husband to prison or even worse, the death penalty, Eddie would surely lose his goddamn mind if Richie were ever taken from him.

“Eddie, baby?” Richie’s question was muffled a bit in Eddie’s nightshirt.

“Just a horrible, _horrible_ dream,” Eddie whispered, kissing the top of Richie’s head, squeezing him tighter in his arms. He continued to hold his husband, even when Pompeii came to check them out after all the ruckus had died down.

Finally, Richie moved them both to the bedroom, Richie slid off his shoes and cuddled his smaller husband to him, combing his fingers through Eddie’s hair, “Do you want to talk about it?” he softly asked and felt Eddie shake his head no.

“Not right now at least,” Eddie murmured, still clinging onto Richie. He had his fingers coiled around the slackened area of Richie’s T-Shirt, still soft from the wash from a few days ago, still smelling of home, and Eddie would continue to do their laundry as if nothing had occurred in the basement, he’d be oblivious to any blood specs on shirts or jeans, Eddie would just make sure that everything was in pristine and perfect.

Eddie was not a foolish child any longer, nor naïve as an adult, he grew up quick as a kid in their neighborhood because of the missing and murdered children, seen too many dead bodies in sewers, seen fresh corpses bleeding out, had his own near death experience too; this wouldn’t be any different for him, the only difference was that Eddie would be prepared for it.

~~~

Richie had hesitantly left him a while later to start dinner, he would periodically check up on Eddie to make sure his husband was breathing okay and to check his pulse, bring him water, and pet through his hair.

He honestly wished that Eddie would just tell him, but a part of him didn’t want to pry, Eddie would come to him when he was ready, their relationship had grown from trust and from a bond of trauma that couldn’t be easily made with anyone else, not to mention they had just clicked when they met before the shitstorm they trekked through.

No amount of therapy could ever cure or undo what they had gone through, and certainly wouldn’t fix the part that broke in Richie, he didn’t view it as a fracture, but it had been a wall inside him that had been torn down and was still roped off for further construction.

Richie didn’t know if that discovered room was ever going to be completed due to the fact of how many horrible people there were in this world, but he had the tools and basic knowhow to make the problems go away forever. He stirred the pasta sauce as he thought about it, he knew that he would die of age, getting killed, or even busted before every awful person was removed from the Earth, but Richie was at least trying.

His last target had infiltrated his home, tried to take his Eddie away to get back at Richie, but luckily, Richie got home early before Eddie did, the kitchen was a bit of a disarray, but nothing was broken.

So, imagine his shock that he heard Eddie’s familiar footfalls on the porch, about the walk into the mess of a dead body on the kitchen floor; Richie glanced at the area where the body had lain, neck snapped, less of a mess that way, the man had been slumped nearby the basement door, which is where the body went as soon as Richie managed to convince Eddie to stay outside for a few moment, before hastily taking the body into the basement cellar, the man’s bloodied nose and dribbled somewhat, but it was an easy clean, he tossed all bloodied paper towels into a garbage bag, disposed of the weapon, and kept everything in the cellar.

The next part had made him feel sick, he had drugged Eddie’s tea, mainly because his husband was a light sleeper, and Richie needed to get rid of everything that night before Eddie called the exterminator for this morning. He wouldn’t have fussed about the fee, because this would have been his fault anyway, he got rid of the assassin in their own home.

He sighed softly, now, Eddie was sick and having a random panic attack, which worried Richie, because what if something or someone had threatened his husband when he was out walking their dog? He had even ignored Martha’s cheerful greeting of his name just to get home faster.

Richie drained the noodles and put the sauce pan on cool burner and served the spaghetti in bowls and put a slice of warm garlic bread on the side, put almost a mountain of ground parmesan cheese on it and a little on Eddie’s as he didn’t eat a lot of dairy, unless it was ice cream.

He soaked the sauce pan before taking their food into the living room, where he then went back to their bedroom and found Eddie curled up, “Eddie, dinner is ready, you should eat,” Richie said gently.

Eddie looked up at him with tired eyes, “I’ll be out in a moment,” he murmured.

“Want me to help you to the couch?” Richie asked him hesitantly, the last thing he wanted was his firecracker to actually explode at him. He did see the annoyance flash across Eddie’s face, but it smoothed away, “I think the _Goonies_ is on tonight,” he prompted him.

Eddie cracked a small smile, “Let me shower first, it should give my food some time to cool.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Richie didn’t push it, he simply went back into the living room, found Pompeii curled up by Eddie’s knitting basket and he sighed as he sat down on the couch, he tilted his head back and stared up at the plain cream ceiling.

He couldn’t tell Eddie the truth, Eddie spazzed when a sock was missing, how the absolute fuck could Richie tell his overly paranoid husband that he killed people as a part-time job? 

Simple answer? He couldn’t and wouldn’t.

Richie let out another miserable sigh, he didn’t know for how much longer he could continue doing this, Richie had tried to get out a couple times, but his handler always managed to rope him back in, needless to say, not only could Richie blab on about things that could get people to buy houses, but Richie could handle his guns too, two very different skillsets, but nonetheless, at the end of the day, he had his duties done.

About 15 minutes later, Eddie rounded the corner, looking pink cheeked, hair still a little damp, but overall more alive than he had previously looked, and Richie was still quick to bundle him up with the couch blanket and kiss his cheeks.

When the movie was switched on, Eddie waited a bit, wondering if he should say anything, but he was a little afraid. Sure, he may already silently agreed with himself that he’d help Richie, but what if Richie didn’t feel the same way? What if Richie would kill him?

They’ve known each other since they were kids, they were each other’s first kiss, first boyfriends of each other, they were each other’s prom dates for senior year of high school, they were each other’s firsts when they had slept together, they dated throughout college, and now were married and had a house together.

Surely Richie didn’t put in all this effort just to fucking kill him after all this?

That pissed Eddie off and he flung his napkin at Richie.

“What was that for?” Richie asked, bewildered as he was now wiping his face with his own napkin and saw that Eddie was glaring at him with a hostility that made Richie’s gut clench uneasily.

“Would you murder me after all this bullshit that we’ve been through?” Eddie demanded, moving to stand up to glare down at Richie, who was just gawking at him like he was crazy. “Answer me Richie Tozier, or I’ll slap you with those divorce papers so fast, your head will spin!”

“Eddie, where is this coming from?” Richie frowned at him, pushing his dinner aside and the kids screaming on the TV quickly made him turn the TV off so he could focus on Eddie. 

“Answer me!” Eddie snapped. He saw the worry on Richie’s face fade to a defensive one, “So you would! You’d keep me like a cow for slaughter, is that it? What the _fuck_, Richie, I thought you loved me!”

“Goddammit, Eddie, I do fucking love you!” Richie was standing now. “Who the fuck spoke to you? Did they tell you about me? Did the threaten you?!”

The shrillness of Richie’s tone at the end made Eddie look at him confusion, “No one told me anything and no one threatened me,” he said, before looking panicked. “Do you have a mafia gang after you?”

“What? No! Well…I mean, they’re not _after_ me,” Richie could tell that this was heading in a bad direction, but he still was giving Eddie a befuddled look. “You’re pissed at me because you think I want to kill you, but you’re scared to think that the Russian mafia would come for you?”

“At least with you I could sweeten up to you before making a break for it, or at least tripping you with your stupid long legs,” Eddie huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. He gave Richie an incredulous glance over “_You_ kill people.”

“Yes,” Richie confessed, ripping the band-aid off.

Whelp, so much for never going to bring this conversation up.

Eddie’s bottom lip wobbled, two seconds away from bawling, because _what the fuck! _His goofball of a husband? A cold-blooded murderer?! Someone who is able to get rid of the evidence?! “H-_how_?!” he wept.

God, he was about to get emotional whiplash at this point.

Richie went to console him and saw Eddie take a couple steps back and did that hurt like a bitch. Richie backed off immediately and sat down; he was tall as fuck, which he learned could be an intimidation factor, so he tried to look the least amount of threatening as possible.

Eddie was fighting back the tears, because this is not how he planned on going out and how embarrassing that would be for his corpse to be found, but he still managed to give his murderer husband a stern look, “Well?”

“I wasn’t a killer from the get go, Eds,” Richie frowned. “I…it became a changing factor on how I viewed people when we were kids, I really saw the good, the bad, and the most fucking evil sides of people.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked him, somewhat warily.

“It was when Henry fucking Bowers kidnapped Bev, remember?” Richie asked him and saw Eddie hesitantly nod. “We went down into the sewer and found his hiding spot where he murdered those kids, where he fucking murdered _Georgie_,” Richie hissed.

“He was messed up, Richie, his dad abused him, so he murdered his dad, and Patrick…he killed Bev’s dad trying to get her, which that piece of shit had it coming too,” Eddie murmured. “But what happened to you to make you change?”

“When we got Beverly free and Henry was running after us, he was going to kill us, Eddie, fucking stab us to death, we were going to be among the faces of dead kids for the police to find, if we were ever found,” Richie gritted his teeth. “I couldn’t let that happen to us, I couldn’t lose _you_,” he whispered, it was when he and Eddie hadn’t confessed to each other yet, they were just 14, it had been a whole year before they got together. Even then, Richie knew he had feelings for Eddie, he couldn’t act on those feelings, because despite being a loudmouthed kid with a temper, he was chickenshit when it came to the feelings he had for Eddie.

Eddie swallowed uneasily at the hostile, yet desperate tone Richie spoke with, “Is that why you attacked him? Had Henry follow you deep down into the sewer, so you could kill him?”

“I had to let you guys get out, if you guys got out and if I died, I was fine with it, Eddie, and this isn’t some guilt tactic to have you feel sorry for me, I know you’re too much a savage bitch to actually show compassion, Eds,” Richie gave his husband a wry grin.

“Did you kill Bowers or not?” Eddie asked, he had his hand by his head, and he really only made that gesture when he was absolutely freaked out, judging by how his hand was shaking due to nerves.

“No,” Richie answered and saw the way Eddie was giving him a disbelieving look. “Eddie, I swear to you, I swear on our fucking marriage that I did not kill Bowers!” he shrilled.

“Then how the fuck did he die?!” Eddie shouted. “He turned up dead with the other kids!”

“I was running down the sewer, there was just a giant hole, I guess that drops and reconnects to the Barrens, I almost fell down it, but Henry actually did and it was a long fucking drop, there was no way he could have survived when I saw him fall,” Richie explained to him. “That’s it, Eddie, I promise you. I’ve never actually taken a life until recently, but…it didn’t bother me. Yes, it did freak me out and I got sick, but after that attack from Henry, I’ve viewed people differently since then. It fucked me up and no amount of therapy would ever change how I felt about the whole thing, because when I see those fucked up people who torture others and for whatever reason, I see Henry Bowers’ fucking smug, stupid face, chasing us throughout the tunnels of the sewer, I remember the fear on your face when he was catching up to us, and I’m not going to let other people live like that.”

“So, you’re some fucking vigilante then?” Eddie asked him, the sarcasm was heavy in his tone.

“No, I’m just a normal hitman, who gets jobs from other shady, but not extensively so, gang leaders and take them out. I collect my money and move on with my life until the next job appears,” Richie answered him honestly. 

Eddie let out a hysterical laugh, “Just “a normal hitman” oh, my _fucking_ God, Richie!” he shrilled loudly. He gasped for breath and saw the panic on Richie’s face, “No,” he held up a hand to stop his husband from coming to him, “give me a couple minutes, the shock will fade much more quickly now that I’ve heard this conversation; I’ve thought about this since I put it all together.”

“Am I really that obvious?” Richie sulked at him.

“Rich, what the fuck else was I supposed to think when you took a tarp, tape, and zip ties?” Eddie asked him.

“That I’m into making tarp ghosts for Halloween decorations?” Richie suggested.

“It’s September,” Eddie deadpanned. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly, his eyes were still squeezed shut when he spoke again, “No more secrets, Tozier. I already told myself earlier that I’m with you on this.”

“Eddie, holy shit, I’m not going to ask you to come to my setups with me,” Richie spluttered, he wasn’t cowed by the glare his husband gave him. “It just makes me feel better that you support—“

“I don’t support your new _hobbies_, Richie, in fact—”

“—thank you for your emotional support, by the way, but you’re not getting involved with any of this, you are to remain home and happy and I will take care of everything else,” Richie cut back over his husband’s stammering. He scooped up Pompeii and got up to put their dog in his husband’s arms, “You take care of our fur baby, he is a lot to care for, and the last thing I ask is that I get a kiss when I come home.”

“You’re a lot to care for and you don’t see me complaining,” Eddie muttered as he carefully put their confused dog back down. He sighed softly, stepping close until he had to look up at Richie with sad eyes, who immediately tried to backpedal, and Eddie snatched him by the wrists, “If you ever murder anyone in our home again, you’re on the couch for a month.”

“Scout’s honor I won’t murder anyone who breaks into our house again,” Richie swore. “I’ll just kindly take them to the backyard and get rid of them out there, while you get your beauty sleep.”

Eddie shakily exhaled, “Please make sure no one breaks into our house again.”

“He was just pissed because I killed his uncle, who is a convicted sex offender, by the way, so really, I did him a favor,” Richie rolled his eyes. He looked back down when Eddie cupped his face carefully, “No more jokes about me killing people either, I promise.”

“It’s not just that,” Eddie frowned worriedly, “I want you to be careful, because this…this isn’t a small ordeal, Richie. People die! I don’t want that to be you, I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t come home.”

Richie swept Eddie into a hug, resting his cheek on to top of Eddie’s soft hair, “You don’t have to worry about that, baby, I’m more of a long distance sniper than face-to-face with these motherfuckers, I would never allow myself to get killed to leave you alone.”

Eddie sniffled softly, tucking his face under Richie’s jaw, “Good, because I’d start a goddamn war.”

“Ohh, I feel the pressure, because I don’t think the world can withstand an Armageddon Eddie, I think I’ll just have to retire to protect everyone, I should just get a medal now,” Richie sighed dramatically. He laughed when Eddie poked him in the side and he leaned Eddie back to kiss him gently, he pulled back to look into his husband’s eyes, all joking attitude gone, “I will always come back to you.”

“There’s no getting out?” Eddie asked him hopefully.

“I’ll see what can be done,” Richie replied vaguely; there was no getting out, not unless he murdered his handler and the small group who worked under him, but Eddie didn’t need to worry about that. He kissed Eddie more deeply, “I’m sorry I scared you and that I kept this from you.”

“Just promise me you’ll treat each…event like I was going to be the one to inspect the area, make sure that there is not even the smallest chance that I’d be able to associate the…the hit to you,” Eddie pleaded.

“Will do, Eddie-Bear, your wish is my command,” Richie swore. 

As scared shitless as Eddie was for Richie, the image of Richie stalking towards his next target while reloading a gun sent a hot flash through him, and the heat that rushed up his cheeks did not go unnoticed.

A wolfish grin slid over Richie’s face, “I guess I'll forego dinner and I can skip straight to the dessert,” he rumbled as he backed Eddie up against one of their living room walls, kissing Eddie hungrily, warm hands groping at his waist as Richie started to walk Eddie backwards towards their bedroom.

Jesus Christ, Richie _was_ going to kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks right up after chapter 1!!
> 
> Get ready for the spice and murder! Mostly murder, yeee!!!
> 
> I will change the rating and add tags! c:

Eddie couldn’t do much other than just let Richie manhandle him; he soon figured out that this was something he was deeply into. He like the sole focused intensity shown in Richie’s dark eyes and it was all and only for Eddie; his breath audible when Richie didn’t even take his attention from him, as Richie kicked the door shut, hands still on his hips, guiding Eddie back gently until the shorter ended up on the bed.

Sex had certainly changed over the years for them, Eddie noted that Richie wasn’t as talkative now, compared to when they were younger and touchy teens and in their twenties. Richie was more focused on giving and silent worship of Eddie’s body, giving his husband the most pleasure he could give, but he still mouthed praises in low, breathy tones against Eddie’s skin where he kissed.

Eddie shivered as warm fingers slid under the oversized shirt, hiking it up his chest and over his head where Richie tossed it to the ground, and he bit back a quip about the untidiness, because Richie would roll his eyes and they’d banter before actually getting on it with, but Eddie knew that this wasn’t the correct time; Richie had let Eddie view him with his new colors, and Eddie was going to lie back and embrace and cherish those changes.

Richie took his time to run his hands from Eddie’s hips, slowly up his ribs to then slide his hands and forearms under to have his husband rest on his arms, as Richie had moved to kiss him slowly, “Thank you,” he whispered, before kissing Eddie once again.

“I love you, Richie, you should know that by now,” Eddie murmured. He slid one hand into Richie’s dark hair, holding him there as they kissed almost lazily, they did have all the remainder of the night and all day Sunday if they chose to make love, though, obviously they didn’t have the stamina as before, but Richie had mastered the dragging it out method, until Eddie was practically begging for him.

Richie did know, he smiled faintly as he took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table, his view of Eddie was clear and perfect as the rest of their surroundings blurred around him, which is how the rest of the world looked anyway when he wore his glasses and Eddie was around him. He pushed himself between Eddie’s parted legs, resting there, as he began mouthing softly as his husband’s neck, hearing Eddie’s breath hitch as he kissed gently there and rubbed up against him, and it occurred to him how long it had been since they’ve last made love; he had been so busy with his other side job that he had been completely neglecting his Eddie.

Well, he couldn’t continue to have that unhappy thought on his mind.

Eddie dug at the covers when the familiar gentle scrape of Richie’s stubbly cheek ghosted against his own, down his neck, and he shivered as soft lips kissed down his chest and Eddie tilted his head back as Richie nuzzled down his faint happy trail, before feeling fingers dip under the hem of his sweatpants and Eddie was refraining from whining. He gasped when he felt Richie mouthing at him, “F-_fuck_,” he choked out.

“Haven’t even gotten to the main course yet, baby,” Richie murmured. He pulled back to completely yank down the sweats and toss those off the bed too before removing his own shirt. He smoothed his hands up his favorite ghostly pale thighs that quaked in his hold and Richie couldn’t stop himself from nipping a bit sharply at Eddie’s inner thigh, puffing out a soft laugh at the strained curse Eddie let out.

Eddie writhed as Richie slowly worked his way back up, strong hands squeezing up his legs, his ass, where one hand lingered as Richie kissed and nipped his way back up to properly kiss him, and Eddie couldn’t stop the groan from coming from his mouth as Richie propped himself up and that hand moved from his bum to palm him through his boxers, before pushing them down to get a proper hold of him. Eddie arched as Richie squeezed at him firmly, “R-Richie,” he whispered; it annoyed him how quickly his tone leaked as slightly desperate.

“Hmm?” Richie hummed against Eddie’s ear, kissing the shell of it. He could feel Eddie shaking under him as he stroked the precum from his tip and used it to glide down the length of Eddie, teasing him, and the smug grin slid across his lips when he heard Eddie’s frustrated huff, and the grin widened when he felt Eddie dig in his nails into his shoulders. 

“Richie, I swear—” Eddie was cut off by his own gasp due to Richie finally stroking him at a steady pace, and he dug in his nails deeper in his husband’s shoulders, feeling Richie shudder from above him.

“Gonna fuck you real good, Eds,” Richie whispered, nipping at Eddie’ earlobe, pulling back to kiss him, and swept his tongue against Eddie’s languidly before pulling back to grab the lube from the bedside table, and quickly moved back over Eddie again, sweetly hushing him with kisses as he warmed the lube between his hands. He was leaning over Eddie again, nudging his husband’s legs further apart, before carefully working a finger into him, feeling Eddie’s shaky breath against his cheek, and Richie went back to kissing him slowly, nibbling at his bottom lip, anything to keep him distracted, and soon he was working the second and third in before Eddie was shaking and pleading softly for him. Richie continued to pamper him with kisses for a few more moments, until he had to slowly work out those slender, yet strong fingers from his hair to give what Eddie was practically begging for.

Even though they both had only slept with each other and were tested as clean, Richie knew that Eddie preferred him to wear a condom, as he learned from their earlier years together that you can take the raging neat freak of a mother from Eddie, but you can’t take the beat in germophobic actions out of him.

He had removed his pants and underwear, slid on the condom, and lubed himself quickly; he had to be in Eddie now, because seeing just how debauched Eddie looked, sprawled out in front of him was making a low heat start to burn hot within him. He lined up and pushed in slowly and Eddie was arching up against him before clinging to him, “_Eddie_,” he groaned lowly as he pushed in until they were flush together. He laced their fingers together for both hands when he pushed Eddie’s hands down onto the mattress above his head, Richie was bracing himself on his forearms that brushed against Eddie’s as he rocked into him, he felt Eddie’s soft thighs encase him, holding onto him tightly that way as Richie fucked into him steadily.

“Oh, my—_fuck!_” Eddie gasped as Richie practically rocked him up the bed. He felt Richie release their right hands and Eddie immediately hooked his free arm around Richie’s neck to pull his husband down into a bruising kiss, he keened loudly as Richie changed the angle, he could feel the stronger, yet slightly frantic thrusts of Richie coming undone, and the way that Richie dug his fingers into his right thigh to hitch it up higher around Richie’s waist; it was enough to make Eddie come with a moan of Richie’s name without being touched, a feat that had Richie groaning lowly against Eddie’s neck as he came too.

Richie panted softly before forcing himself to calm so he could kiss Eddie soundly as he slowly pulled out, the soft whine Eddie let out was muffled by their kiss and Richie stroked his thumb soothingly across Eddie’s thigh that was sure to have tiny bruises from the indents of Richie’s fingers from where he gripped strongly. He pulled away slowly, savoring every second before tying off the condom and throwing it away in the bathroom before returning with a warm, damp cloth to wipe Eddie’s stomach off, which he then rinsed out the rag with little protest, because he was overly satisfied with himself that he reduced Eddie to a docile puddle of goo with arms that ensnared him the moment he lied back down.

“Got anymore secrets that can lead into great sex?” Eddie asked him tiredly, kissing Richie’s cheek.

Richie gazed up at the slowly spinning ceiling fan, “Only one: I fucked your mom the same way and she liked it.”

“I _hate_ you.”

“Mm, love you too, Eddie-Bear.”

~~~

Life as it turns out, did not end once Monday came back, Eddie was prepared for police to come bursting into his office to demand him down to the station for questioning about a missing man, who was buried God knows where, if he was even buried.

A revolted shiver rolled down Eddie’s spine at the imagery of Richie using acids to break the body down until it was just slop. He pushed away his applesauce that he had packed for lunch. Eddie glanced at his phone and tapped the home button, there were not new messages, but he did have a text from Stanley, who was telling him about his trip out to Florida with Mike and the weird birds that were there.

Eddie just sent him a thumbs up emoji in response and went back to work, compiling a company’s financial records for their monthly profit and so and so forth. He didn’t find his job boring per say, but Eddie had always thought Richie had a fun job, not the one of being a hitman.

He glanced at the work he had and Eddie seemed to deflate a little bit, more tedious things to review and check through for the marketing employees down the hall, and with one more tiny sigh, Eddie rolled his shoulders and got to work.

When 5 P.M. finally rolled out, Eddie exited the building fast enough that he got a few curious looks, but wouldn’t raise any suspicion. He hurried to his car, eager to just get home and relax, he was also planning on making steak stir fry that night and freshly cut and fried vegetables for dinner and maybe have a glass of wine.

Traffic wasn’t awful for a Monday, so Eddie made it home in twenty minutes, he was humming to himself as he unlocked the kitchen door and opened the door to let Pompeii shoot out the back door like a cream-colored bullet, “Ten minutes!” Eddie called before going inside and shut the door.

He went to the bedroom and hung up his messenger bag, grabbed his laptop out of it and put it on the charger before removing his work clothes, putting his slacks and button up in the hamper and hung up his tie in the closet.

After that, Eddie wandered back into the kitchen to prep dinner, he sent Richie a text that food should be ready about 7:30, so he better not go out with a buddy that night and shoot pool.

By 6:35 that evening, Eddie was getting worried because there wasn’t a single text from Richie and he kept checking out the kitchen window every few seconds, hoping to see Richie’s car pulling up to their garage.

Pompeii tilted his head every time Eddie let out a sigh.

It was times like these Eddie wished he were a dog, where he had nothing to worry about other than getting pets and chewing on a bone, and not anxiously waiting for his realtor by day and hitman by night husband. He checked his phone again and frowned, another 30 minutes had gone by and there was still no word from Richie.

Eddie grabbed his phone and looked through his apps, he found the one that he and Richie had downloaded when Richie had gotten lost on a tourist trip in Rome, they never had turned it off apparently, as he was now able to find Richie and he was across town. He wondered if Richie was giving some a home tour, but it was the new suburban area, but the last thing Richie told him, which was about a week ago, the whole place was still under construction, the only house that was built was the display house, all the other homes were being constructed in one area at a time and from what he remembered, they were just now being built, and not to mention, it was a little after 7, Richie didn’t do tours after 5.

Eddie hastily covered their steaks and put them into the cooling oven, along with the pan of fried vegetables, he slipped on his loafers and grabbed his keys and hurried outside; he just had a sinking feeling that there was something wrong.

He pulled up the directions and followed them, he was driving just fast enough that it would piss some off people, but not fast enough to actually draw attention to himself, and before he knew it, he was across town at the new _Honeydew Lights_ junction for all the new homes that weren’t built yet.

Eddie had turned off his headlights before turned down the entrance, he could see the display house that was built, the lights weren’t on, but looking at his phone, the little dot that was Richie was inside the house. He swallowed nervously as he quietly exited his car, he couldn’t shut his door without slamming it, so he had to leaned into it until the door latched shut and then Eddie snuck over.

If he weren’t so terrified that he was going to find his husband dead or find himself dead in a few moments, he would have romanticized the times when they had been teenagers, sneaking out after nightfall to see each other, but now was not the time to be caught up in the past.

Eddie didn’t climb onto the porch, afraid that it would creak, he crept around the back where the lowest window was and peered inside, geez, he was going to have to talk to Richie about how easy it was to be a peeping pervert and would from here on out to shut their curtains before they went to bed and before they left for work.

He could tell that he was looking into the kitchen, there were display pieces of a kitchen table and chairs, a chandelier, a bar table with chairs, he assumed the plants in there were fake, and a decorative rug was placed in front of the door. Eddie squinted a bit and bit back a startled yelp when a shadowy figure darted past the archway that lead out of the dining area, but he couldn’t tell who it was.

Eddie glanced at the back door and when he actually looked behind himself, he saw Richie’s red convertible parked in the gravel and a pickup truck that looked dented to hell. Well, that answered his question if Richie was alone, which he wasn’t, and Eddie crept to the backdoor, thanking the stars and the moon that it was unlocked and didn’t squeal when he opened it.

The door had muffled the fighting, Eddie heard a pained sound and a thud of a body hitting the ground from the next room over; his heart was in his throat as he tiptoed his way over before freezing where he stood, he didn’t have a weapon, but what if it was Richie who was hurt?!

Eddie could be his own weapon, he would hurt anyone who dare hurt his husband! He snuck his way forward until he could peer around the corner of the archway, there, he saw two figured darkened by the night, the sun had set low enough that anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell who was who, but Eddie knew how tall Richie was, and he sighed in relief; Richie was standing.

The man on the ground was babbling something, but Eddie couldn’t understand him, he looked back at Richie and his heart lurched when he saw Richie holding a handgun that looked like it had a silencer on it, Richie cocked it and pulled the trigger.

Despite the silencer, the sound was still jarring that Eddie felt cold dread pool through him as the man on the ground had taken a direct headshot and slumped to the ground, Eddie felt his legs give out, and he found a gun trained at him.

“Eddie?!” Richie exclaimed in confusion, he immediately lowered his gun, putting the safety on before hiding the gun behind his back and put it in the waist of his jeans. “What are you doing here?” he asked frantically, coming over to Eddie, who was sat there, shivering.

“I got worried,” Eddie’s voice was weak. “It was after dinner and you hadn’t answered so I thought something happened to you!” he explained, voice hitching now.

“Fuck,” Richie whispered, he stood between Eddie and the body on the ground, blocking his view. He easily helped Eddie up and kept him close, “Okay, we’re going to go to my car, you need to sit in there and try to calm down, you’re starting to freak out,” he said, guiding Eddie back outside.

“What happened, who was that man?” Eddie asked him quickly. He grumbled unhappily when Richie had practically manhandled him into the passenger seat, “Richie, fucking answer me!”

Richie crouched down, so that he was kneeling and cupped Eddie’s face, “A bad guy, Eds, I told you, I only take out the scumbags,” he replied. He kissed Eddie’s forehead that was clammy with cold sweat and felt guilt pool in him; he never wanted his husband to experience this side of him, “I have to go get the body.”

Eddie paled but took a few calming breaths, “D-Do you n-need help?” he asked, stammering somewhat, Jesus, is this how Bill felt when he couldn’t get it out? He saw Richie shake his head, “Are you sure?”

“You just sit tight, babe, I got this,” Richie replied, smiling sincerely at him. He paused, “Uhh, unless you just wanna head back home? I’ve sort of gotta drop off the body as proof of the job.”

“Jesus, Rich, what the fuck?” Eddie croaked, but he was still too petrified to move.

“Mm, maybe not a good idea for you to be behind the wheel,” Richie fretted, it was starting to become clear that Eddie was going into shock. He started his car and turned on the heat before grabbing his jacket from the back and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders, “Just sit tight, focus on your breathing, and I’ll be back before you can miss me,” Richie winked. “Oh, also, don’t panic if you feel the back of the car shaking, I’ve got to put him in the trunk.”

Eddie made a distressed sound.

About fifteen minutes later, after stuffing the body in the trunk of his car, Richie had to fix any of the toppled props in the display house and gave it a quick sweep, satisfied with the cleanup, Richie headed back to his car. He slid into the driver’s seat and saw that Eddie was staring blankly ahead out the windshield, fingers curled around the jacket to pinch it shut close to his chest, but he wasn’t shivering anymore.

“Are you going to be okay?” Richie asked when they pulled out onto the main street, he would have to make a trip back to dispose of the truck and hopefully Eddie would be feeling better to drive back home. He glanced over to Eddie, who was still sitting as still as he could, “Babe?”

“This is fucking horrible,” Eddie whispered, looking over to Richie with teary eyes. “Rich, this job is awful!”

“Well, you’re right about it not being a walk in the park,” Richie muttered, “what turned you off to it? The murder, blood, or having to haul corpses around?”

“Richie!” Eddie snapped. “What if you got hurt? And I thought you kept out of harm’s way? Long distance sniper my ass!” he cried angrily.

“Sometimes the job is up close and personal, but trust me, I’ve got it,” Richie promised, glancing back at Eddie who looked to still be seething. “Don’t burst a blood vessel.”

“Your nose was bleeding,” Eddie commented dryly. He huffed and sulked against the passenger seat, “Did you at least lay a sheet or something in the back so your trunk isn’t stained?”

“Sheets seep, tarps don’t,” Richie corrected him, focusing on the road ahead.

“Did you take another tarp of ours?” Eddie asked him, narrowing his eyes.

Silence answered him.

“Dammit, Richie, your fucking boss better reimburse us for them,” Eddie grumbled. He exhaled slowly before looking back at Richie, “But are you okay? Nothing broken?”

“Nope,” Richie popped the ‘p’ at the end. “Just busted a cap in the guy back there, I’ve just got to drop him off, and then we can go back home.”

“Don’t you guys have cleaners or something?” Eddie inquired.

“It’s just easier to handle it yourself, unless you’re absolutely fucked up, but I’ve never gotten to that point,” Richie told him. “I mean that’s the whole point of being a hitman, take out the target without getting noticed.”

There wasn’t much to say after that and Eddie wasn’t really in the mood to hear the gruesome details of what Richie had done, in fact, it made squeamish at the idea of Richie up to his elbows in guts, “You at least wash your hands after, right?”

“Yea, the guys think I have some kind of germ issue,” Richie mused, side eyeing Eddie, who had a faint smile on his face. “So, steak and veggies for dinner? You spoil me, Eds.”

Eddie grimaced a little, the peppers might be soggy by the time they got home, but the broccoli and halved carrots would hopefully still be tender, “Might have to pitch the peppers; I don’t like mush.” 

Richie was apologetic about that and was thankful that his handler’s house was just a couple minutes out and soon he saw the giant metal gates that had elegant metal weavings through the base of the gates, which they slowly swung open.

“You have to drop of the body at someone’s _house_?!” Eddie panickily whispered, like someone was going to overhear them.

“They’ll take care of the body, plus the buyer wanted proof that the dude was dead, so no big, I just need you to lay low, Eds,” Richie’s tone became a somewhat ordering one.

Eddie laid his seat back at far as he could and he still was freaking out as they drove under lampposts, afraid that they’d see him through the darkly tinted windows of Richie’s car. He almost panicked when they came to a stop and his breath caught in his throat when Richie leaned over him, and Eddie looked up into the calm eyes of his lover (he missed Richie’s glasses), he accepted the quickly, yet calming kiss.

“I’ll be back to blow you,” Richie winked and then was getting out of the car.

Eddie was red in the face, unbale to say anything. He heard Richie using his “forced to socialize” voice that was friendly and some other voice that was heavily accented, yet cheerful as they said Richie’s name, the rest became muffled as Richie shut the driver’s door. Eddie peeked at the side mirror and thought the shorter man was a little nerve-wracking with that sharp smile, bright eyes that were the focal point as the man did not have any eyebrows, nor hair on his head; Eddie sunk back down in his seat, afraid that the man would somehow sense him staring.

The trunk opened and Eddie could hear the same voice saying something in awe quite loudly and laughter, then the voices got softer, Eddie could hear crunching of gravel that wasn’t near his side luckily, but he still held his breath, the car bounced for a moment, and lifted as the weight from the back had been taken out.

He saw Richie rounding around the car on the driver’s side again, leaning against it, acting casual as he was loudly, yet politely denying the accented man’s invitation to stay and have dinner or a drink.

Eddie silently fumed; he wished that he could have jumped out and snapped at the bald man to mind his fucking business and stop flirting with _his_ husband without getting shot. He was sulky about it and then finally, Richie was getting back in the driver’s side, “Who was that?” Eddie scowled.

Richie had luckily shut the door quick enough before Eddie’s question could be heard, “My handler, Eds, don’t worry about him,” he shrugged off. “C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here,” he restarted his car and put it in drive, honking twice, before driving down the driveway. He smirked when they finally got onto the main street, “Cute, cute, _cute!_” he trilled.

“What?” Eddie frowned in confusion.

“You,” Richie mused. “You got all jealous!”

“I did not!” Eddie protested angrily. He sat there in silence for a total of a few seconds before blurting: “No one should be that happy to see you other than me!”

Richie laughed loudly at him, “Aww, you are just _too_ cute, Eddie-Bear!”

Eddie jumped in his seat when the car suddenly veered over to the shoulder and yelped when Richie hauled him over, “Oh, my God! Richie, we’re not teenagers anymore! I’m going be 40 in 3 years, asshole!”

“Still look good as ever,” Richie murmured, eyes drinking in the blush that colored his husbands face, he pulling him close, kissing him slowly, cupping the side of Eddie’s face, as his other hand rested on Eddie’s waist.

Eddie relaxed after that, allowing himself to straddle Richie’s lap, “Thought you were going to blow me,” he murmured when they broke for air.

“I thought you said that we weren’t teenagers anymore?” Richie mocked him and chuckled when Eddie slapped his shoulder. “At home,” he promised and heard Eddie’s stomach growl.

“Food first,” Eddie stated firmly.

“Food first,” Richie easily relented.

Eddie managed to get back in his seat without pulling a muscle and sighed as he slumped back against it, “Does the thrill of the kill get you going?” he asked warily as Richie drove on. 

“Just seeing you gets me going,” Richie winked and missed the eyeroll, but knew it was there.

They drove until they ended back at the home construction site and Eddie hopped out of Richie’s car, “See you at home,” Eddie said and got to his car.

Richie waited until Eddie was in his car and driving before he followed after him, a relax grin spread across his face; Eddie wasn’t as spazzed out at he had originally thought, because he thought he was going to have to Vulcan nerve pinch him or something.

When they both reached home, Richie practically had a skip in his step as he followed after Eddie to the back door, humming airily under his breath, greeted their dog, and kicked off his shoes before neatly placing them in the shoe organizer Eddie had put by the door.

Eddie was reheating their food and grabbed two glasses of wine; he was going to need it after the night he just witnessed. He poured them both wine and put the half empty bottle back in the fridge, he stood at the oven, checking over their steaks when he felt Richie slid up behind him, warm arms wrapping around his middle, and felt Richie rest his chin on top of his head, “I’m sorry for practically stalking you. You’ve clearly been doing this for a while…I should have trusted you more.”

“It’s not your fault, baby, we’ve gotta come up with a code or something so you don’t think I’m leaving you hanging or think I’m dead,” Richie hummed. He smiled when Eddie slid a hand over his laced hands that were resting over Eddie’s middle. “How about “I’m gonna kill this fucking clown” sound good?”

“Too detailed, you might tip off the FBI in our phones,” Eddie mused. “You can just send me a clown face emoji.”

“Perfect, gotta keep up on the youth and their lingo, we can have our own…what are they? Me-mes?” Richie asked him.

Eddie laughed, “Memes, I only know that word because we hired a couple fresh bloods a couple months ago, they’re in the same age range and were talking about the latest joke. One of them dropped their mug and he just said ‘mood’, which is alarming and I don’t know if he’s trying to reach out for help, or if that’s just the sense of humor these days.”

“I’ll say the first bit,” Richie chuckled. “I’m going to pepper that in my vocab when something inconveniences me from now on.”

“Please don’t, I have been with you and your shitty jokes since we were kids, please, Richie, if you love me, please don’t add this culture in our house,” Eddie pleaded.

“Then beg,” Richie said with a straight face, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, my _God._”

Some love was strange, but this was his relator, part-time hitman husband, who makes 'your mom' jokes in his late thirties, who he also just watched shoot a man pointblank in the face, haul his corpse into the trunk of his car, drop it off at some mafia boss’s house, and Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier loved him and wouldn’t change a thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are basically becoming one-shots at this point lmao
> 
> But this chapter focuses on when Richie killed Henry and yes, he did lie to Eddie in the first chapter about not killing Henry.
> 
> I am also so sorry if I over did Bill's stutter.....

Summer_ – 1989 _

“H-he to-took B-b-Beverly!”

Richie’s ears rung at Bill’s shout, who only stammered worse than usual when he was upset about something. He looked up from his comic that he was reading with Eddie, they had been sprawled out in his backyard under a tree reading the new Spider-Man addition when Bill came speeding into Richie’s backyard on Silver.

“Who took Bev?” Eddie’s voice was high and panicky.

Richie didn’t doubt for second that he was less than thirty seconds away from whipping out his inhaler, he frowned and pushed himself off his belly to sit on his butt, “Her evil fucking father?” Richie asked as he looked up, tilting his head so that Bill’s head blocked the sun.

“H-Henry!” Bill cried and he saw the terror flicker across both of his friend’s faces. “I-I we-went to go se-see her and the do-door was o-o-open,” Bill paused for a breath, he was shivering despite it being over 80 degrees out, “an-and I f-f-found her fa-father de-dead!”

“_Shhh!_” Richie hissed, his kitchen window was open, his mother might still be cleaning the dishes from lunch. He couldn’t see into the kitchen window as it was dark, he cut his gaze back over to Bill, he could feel Eddie squeezing at his arm, thin fingers digging in like fine points, but Richie didn’t brush him off, “Are you sure?” he asked. “We should go see it together,” he said lowly.

“Richie, _no!_” Eddie gasped, he was ripping open his fanny pack and pulling out the dull blue inhaler, taking a couple deep breaths through it. “We can’t go there!” he continued, disbelief coloring his words. “It’s a crime scene!”

“Wow, want to say it a little louder for the rest of the neighborhood?” Richie hissed as he covered Eddie’s mouth with his hand, ignoring his muffled shouting. He looked back at Bill, “Did you check the rest of the apartment for her?”

Bill shook his head, “N-no, I wa-was in the ha-hallway wh-when I s-s-saw h-him i-in the ba-bathroom, a-and I r-r-ran,” he explained. He watched Eddie finally shove Richie’s hand off his mouth, a disgusted look on his face, “R-Richie is r-r-right, we g-gotta go b-b-back!”

“She might still be there,” Richie told him. “Maybe she just didn’t hear you or see you.”

Eddie looked seconds away from getting ill, the light color on his face had gone away, cheeks turning almost milky white, he clung back onto Richie’s stupid pun shirt as he tried not to lose his lunch.

Richie nodded, serious for once, he looked back at Eddie, “Spagheds, you don’t have to go. Already, your mom probably has your face plastered on milk cartons because you’ve been out for over an hour.”

“Shut up, don’t call me that!” Eddie scowled, “I’m not letting you do this alone!”

“I got Big Bill,” Richie shrugged at him, he saw the angry glare on Eddie’s face. “Hey,” he drawled, “you’ll always been my fairest maiden in the whole town of Derry, my _lurve_,” he teased in his worst accent possible. “You know I’d rescue you any time, because you’d be a lot easier to save than your mom.”

“Shut. Up,” Eddie barked, the color coming back to his cheeks quickly; he could feel himself almost getting dizzy from the blood rush.

“G-guys, f-f-focus!” Bill shouted. “R-Richie luh-let’s _go!_”

“O-_kay_, boss man,” Richie sighed, he stood up and Eddie stood up with them, he gave his friend a questioning look and Eddie had a self-assured look on his face.

“I’m going with you,” Eddie stated. “What about Stan, Mike, and Ben? Do they know?”

“R-Richie wa-was cl-closest, w-we can g-g-get th-them a-a-after,” Bill told them as he started to turn his bike around. He gestured for them to get onto their bikes that were leaned against the tree they had been sitting under, “S-sorry to ru-ruin y-y-your date b-by the w-w-way,” he teased, but he didn’t feel bad as he felt extremely worried for their friend.

Eddie puffed up, “Don’t be a weirdo, Bill,” he scoffed and quickly got his bike, taking off towards the direction Beverly’s apartment was, he didn’t see the slightly crestfallen look Richie expressed, but quickly ducked his head, speeding past Bill.

~~~

When the trio showed up at Beverly’s apartment, Bill lead them inside, Richie was next, and Eddie was clung to Richie’s arm from the ground floor up until they were inside Bev’s apartment, which Eddie clung tighter.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Richie snapped quietly, “if you’re into pain play, find someone else,” he muttered and felt Eddie recoil from him in disgust. Richie could hear Eddie muttering about them getting in trouble with the police, “As long as you don’t touch anything, we’re fine!”

“Forensic science is a thing now, Richie!” Eddie shrilled. “If they even get a hair from us, they’ll take us in!”

“Then you better keep your mouth shut so they don’t get your spit from you flapping your yap,” Richie snarked. He heard Bill snap at them to be quiet and Richie rolled his eyes, “The man’s dead, Bill, you said it yourself, so what’s he gonna hear from us?” he asked and shouldered past his friend.

“W-wait, Richie!” Bill exclaimed, watching Richie practically stomp down the hall towards the bathroom, he could hear Eddie starting to panic from behind him. He turned and put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “Y-you n-need to ca-calm d-d-down, Ed-Eddie,” he said quietly.

But Eddie was looking around Bill to watch Richie shove through the bathroom door, “Richie!” he shouted and hurried by Bill, who was jogging after him. He heard Richie swear loudly and Eddie had just stepped into the bathroom when Richie whipped around, telling him to turn around and leave, but it was too late, Eddie saw Beverly’s dad on his back, the multiple stab wounds in his chest, the blood that stained his light blue shirt dark in the chest, and he had a wound on his head that had been oozing blood as there was a decent sized puddle under his head.

Richie grabbed Eddie and aggressively turned him around, shoving him out of the bathroom, he could feel Eddie shaking and before he knew it, Eddie was clinging to him, tucking his face against Richie’s chest, and Richie’s heart started to race as Eddie’s fingers curled tightly into his shirt.

Bill was still standing in the threshold of the bathroom door; his eyes were trained on something on the wall and when he turned around, he looked sick, “H-Henry did t-t-take B-Beverly,” he whispered.

Richie was still murmuring soothingly for Eddie to calm down when he looked back at Bill, “What, how do you know?”

Bill shakily pointed at the wall that had words written in blood that oozed down the wallpaper.

Richie leaned back and his eyes widened from behind his glasses, he curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair and hugged him closer subconsciously when he whispered, “She’s dead if you come looking for her.”

“B-b-but w-w-we d-don’t even k-kn-know—”

“The sewers, the Barrens,” Richie interrupted him. “Henry and his jerkoff friends always hang out there when they aren’t harassing everyone in this fucking town,” he spat; he could feel Eddie shivering in his arms.

“Richie,” Eddie said weakly, “we can’t _go_, they’ll fucking kill her if we try looking for her!”

“He’ll kill her anyway!” Richie exclaimed. “At least now we have a chance to save her before Bowers fucking does something!”

“W-w-we ha-have t-t-to go g-get th-the oth-others!” Bill rushed out, the panicky tone in his voice was getting higher as he spoke; he almost looked on the brink of tears.

“Eddie,” Richie said, pulling his shorter friend back, giving him a serious look, “go get the others, it’s the safest thing for you to do.”

“What the fuck are you going to do?” Eddie demanded.

“Bill and I are going to go to the Barrens,” Richie stated, even though he was scared shitless, he couldn’t lose one of their friends, not now when they knew who the culprit was, Richie would never forgive himself if Beverly ended up like those five other missing kids.

“I’m not just going to fuck off while you and Bill get yourselves killed!” Eddie shouted. He gritted his teeth when Richie shook is head at him, “Richie Tozier—”

“Then that’s why you better hurry your ass over to Stanley’s and get him, call Ben, and Mike and have them meet all of us at the Barrens,” Richie ordered and saw Eddie about to protest, “Eddie, _please_, stop fighting with me and just listen, okay?!”

Eddie contemplated it for a moment before his shoulders slumped, “You better stay fucking alive, Tozier, or I’ll beat your stupid corpse face up!” his breath hitched and he snapped at Bill to watch Richie and make sure he didn’t do something stupid before running outside.

“T-that was sm-smart of y-you,” Bill said as he and Richie hurried outside too.

“Just couldn’t listen to him bitch all the way there,” Richie joked, smiling but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. 

~~~

Richie didn’t feel scared when he reached the opening of the Barrens, which he knew was wrong, because there was a giant chance of him ending up like Beverly’s dad.

Bill reached out to grab him, “W-we sh-should w-w-wait f-f-for the r-r-rest,” he said when Richie stepped forward. “A-and we n-need w-w-weapons.”

Richie nodded and looked down for anything that he could use, he ended up finding a metal pole that was rusted, he could hear Eddie screaming inside his head about getting tetanus from it. He saw that Bill had found something similar to what he found, but it had a pointer tip, like it had been part of a gate or something.

Bill was getting antsy, he didn’t want to be reckless, because what if Henry had his other goons with him? Richie and himself weren’t as tall, nor strong as Henry and his lackies, but he was scared for Beverly, and he couldn’t waste anymore time just standing around.

“Bill!”

“Stan,” Bill breathed in relief. He saw his friends hurrying down over the steep hill, Mike was down the hill first, sweating and panting for breath, but he quickly pulled himself together, “Y-you m-made it.”

“It’s Bev, we can’t just abandon her, she’s our friend,” Mike sincerely answered. 

Eddie made it over to Richie and socked him in the shoulder, “Glad that you’re not dead, stupid,” he sneered and jumped back when Richie waved the rusted pipe at him. “You asshole!” he shrieked.

Stanley and Ben were the last to get over to them.

“Are you sure that Beverly is down there?” Stanley asked Bill, looking uneasy about having to go through a sewer.

Bill nodded, “H-Henry k-k-killed B-Bev’s dad. H-he ha-had to have t-t-taken h-her.”

Ben looked sickened, “Then we have to hurry!” he exclaimed.

The group carefully clambered into the large sewer pipe and Eddie only whined to the bare minimum, Richie was towards the back with him, dealing with the tight grip of Eddie’s hand coiled around his wrist like a vice.

Bill froze when he reached the second tunnel, a strangled noise coming out of his mouth and he forced himself a couple steps back, bumping into Mike, who asked him what was wrong and Bill couldn’t even say anything, just shakily pointing at the disgusting, sopping ground.

Mike shined his flashlight and gagged and averted his gaze from the boy he was looking at, his throat slashed, eyes still opened wide in fear.

It was Patrick Hockstetter.

“Is that fucking Hockstetter?” Stanley gawked, he swayed on his feet and felt Ben steady him. “Did Bowers do this?”

“Bowers is off the fucking rails,” Richie scowled, he pulled Eddie away to the furthest side of the tunnel. He looked down at the shaggy, black-haired boy, it looked like he had tried to crawl away and not only that, Henry was becoming a sloppy bitch if he was letting the bodies get close to the surface; it amazed him that the police hadn’t even thought to check the sewers yet.

They hurried down the smaller pipe, having to crouch a little to get cross through it to an open area that had rusted chain fence to stop anyone from climbing the ladders and none of them would anyway as it was too dark and it was grossly slick everywhere.

Eddie practically was squeezing his hand off.

After ten minutes of wandering, they all saw pale light coming from a large open area of the sewer and none of them knew what this place was, but they all stood at the gaping doorway that was filled with stale water, old stuff that must have been washed down the storm drains, and there was an old circus trolley down there that had a faded clown face painted on the side.

Thank fuck they weren’t dealing with murderous clowns.

Richie heard Bill gasp and he looked over and his eyes easily pinpointed to what Bill was looking at, which was a neon yellow raincoat that was small enough to be Georgie sized; his gut clenched in grief for his friend.

On their way of crossing the ankle-deep disgusting water that was freezing, Ben shouted out for Beverly, who was tied to a pole, lip busted, and she had a cut on her forehead, but much to relief that was all the damage.

Ben yanked out the gross gag they had taped to her mouth and was struggling to get the ropes undone, and Mike was pulling out a pocketknife from his back pocket and flicked it open and got behind the pole and was cutting through the brittle rope.

“They’ll be back, hurry!” Beverly whispered frantically; she was shivering.

Bill yanked off the flannel he was wearing over his plain blue shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders, since she was only wearing a short-sleeved dress with knee length leggings under it. 

Eddie was looking around, squeezing Richie’s clenched hand between his own. His breath audibly hitched when he saw Henry standing in the doorway that they had all come through.

Richie looked over and saw Henry too, “Fuck, hurry up, he’s here!” he shouted just as Henry roared before laughing manically and charging at them.

Beverly still had rope entangled around her wrists, but she was free from the pole and she took off running, Bill pulling her forward before pushing her towards Mike. She froze briefly when Bill wasn’t running with her, “Bill, come on!”

“N-no, g-go!” Bill shouted, waving at his friends to run.

Richie did the same to Eddie, “Go, I’ll be right behind you,” he promised and saw the terror on Eddie’s face and it was in that moment, Richie would rather die than let anything happen to Eddie. He faced Henry and sneered at him, “Still blowing your pig of a father, freak?” he shouted and heard Henry shout obscenity filled words at him.

Richie took off running the opposite way, motioning for Bill to go after their friends to keep them safe. His heart was pounding in his ears as he ran, he could hear Henry closing in on him, could hear his angry panting and Ritchie slid into a small tunnel, he was grateful that his hands didn’t get sliced open, but it still hurt like a bitch sliding down rough, yet slicked over concrete that he really tried to push from the furthest part of his mind.

He ducked through the random poles that were threaded through the smaller sewer pipe that suddenly dropped to a lower section, he nearly slid into the large manhole that was just a dark void and his stomach clenched in fear of not knowing how far it went down.

Richie jumped when he finally saw Henry pulling himself through the smaller drain pipe, his face was flushed, pig nose flaring angrily, and in his hand was the button trigger pocket knife, the blade unsheathed with a click and Henry was chuckling aggressively through his ragged breaths.

“First I’m gonna kill you, then I’ll gonna kill your fucking faggot boyfriend, while your stupid followers watch,” Henry shook with rage as he approached Richie. He shouted as he lunged at Richie, who managed to slide away, he grunted as Richie got him in the shoulder with the rusted pipe. “You fucker, I’ll kill you!” he shouted.

“You’re like a pull-string toy, you only got three stupid lines to say!” Richie taunted him. He hissed as he slipped and the air rushed out of him when Henry landed on top of him, he struggled to keep the knife from getting near his throat and he bashed Henry weakly in the ribs with the pipe, he got his cheek cut, but it was enough for Henry to lose his balance and Richie whipped the pipe across Henry’s face, hearing bone crack and Richie felt his insides twist unpleasantly at the sound.

Henry held the side of his jaw, staggering in place, he had dropped the pocket knife by his feet, blood spilled from under his hand, which Richie assumed he managed to break Henry’s nose.

Richie glanced behind Bowers and saw the open pit behind him and Richie ran forward, swinging the pipe into Henry’s knee, who howled in pain, crumpling from the pain. He glowered down at the mullet-haired bully, “You shouldn’t have killed your crooks, it would have been fun getting rid of them too,” he sneered.

“I have to kill you all,” Henry spat out blood, he was missing a tooth, but his grin was still creepy. “You don’t have the balls, Tozier, you’re just like your faggot boyfriend, I’ll go kill Kaspbrak next, the fucking fairy.”

Richie didn’t even hesitate, the anger that overcame him made him briefly black out, but he still saw Henry’s surprised look as he swung the pipe again, blasting Henry across the face, he fell back and Richie relished to see the fear on Bowers’ face when the older boy realized that there was nothing for him fall back on.

He stood over the pit, hearing Henry’s screams fade, he must have hit pipes on the way down, because he heard a sickening crack before it went silent and a few moments later a dull thud, Richie glanced down and saw the pocket knife, part of him desperately wanted to keep it, but that was the knife that Bowers threatened to use on Eddie.

Richie kicked it down the large opening and didn’t wait to hear it clatter all the way down, he also ditched the pipe, passing it through a large metal grate that he could fit his arm through, the water and whatever else would remove the blood and finger prints from it and he rubbed his rust colored fingers onto his already ruined jeans before climbing out of there.

When he almost got to the main entrance of the Barrens, he could hear Eddie’s screams echoing down the main drain pipe and he practically booked it, because Eddie was fucking _sobbing_ for Richie.

Richie jumped out of the main drain pipe, landing in the creek, he heard his friends shouting his name and he saw that Mike was holding Eddie back, but the moment they saw him, Mike let go and Eddie was out of his hold in a flash, practically flying over to Richie.

“You _fucking _idiot!” Eddie’s voice reached a whole new high. He was sobbing into Richie’s neck as he clung to him, “I-I thought you died!” Eddie gasped through his tears.

Richie squeezed him tight in his arms as he was surrounded by his friends, all them hugging him until he and Eddie were trapped in the center of their giant group hug, “Geez, if only takes me nearly dying for you guys to appreciate me, maybe I’ll do it more often.”

Eddie knocked his head up against the under side of Richie’s jaw, hearing his teeth click and Richie swear lowly, “You ever do that shit again, I’ll punch you in the face!”

Stanley pulled back first he glanced into the darkness of the giant drain pipe, “Where is Bowers?” he asked Richie.

“Lost him in the maze of the sewers, he couldn’t fit through the bars that I slipped through,” Richie replied smoothly. “Hope that bastard rots in there,” he sneered. He managed to wiggle away from the group hug, “As amazing as this is, I really want to go home and shower, I’ve literally been splashing through piss water.”

Eddie wrenched himself away after that, gagging heavily.

“Oh, pipe down, you only walked through it, I was all over the damn place in the fucking sewer, I’ll be surprised if I don’t have a mutation in the next hour,” Richie huffed. He looked over at Beverly, “What are your plans?” he asked her.

Beverly looked like she had been crying, but if it was for him or her father, Richie didn’t bother to ask, “I have an aunt a few towns over…I’ll give her a call and tell her what happened,” her voice shook towards the end.

Both Bill and Ben looked at her worriedly.

“We should go tell someone,” Mike said suddenly, Stan was agreeing with him. “We saw some kids when we were running, it was two of the five who were declared missing. They’re down there,” he whispered.

Richie was feeling less guilty about bashing Henry in the face and sending him to his death.

Eddie frowned when he saw the cut on Richie’s cheek, “C’mon, go home, get cleaned up so I can patch your dumb face,” he ordered. He was pulling on Richie lightly, “Your parents are gone for date night, right?”

Richie nodded, feeling exhaustion overtaking him as the adrenaline was fading. He didn’t even said goodbye to the others, just mindlessly following after Eddie, who was prattling on in a word-vomit induced nerves. He barely remembered biking home, but he was using his keys to unlock the front door and was stumbling inside, Eddie was behind him, locking the door behind him.

Richie showered, standing under the hot water for twenty minutes before actually moving to scrub at his hair and body until his skin pinked and then he cried because he had fucking murdered Henry Bowers and he didn’t feel bad.

If anything, Richie felt _good_ and he felt like he could do again.

After one last scrub of himself, Richie turned the water off and toweled off slowly, he saw that Eddie must have snuck in and put clean pajamas out on the counter for him. He dressed slowly, he laughed when he saw the fuzzy socks that Eddie had gotten him one Christmas, he laughed until he was sitting on the ground with tears running down his cheeks.

There was a hesitant knock and a pause before Eddie was pushing his way into the bathroom and crouched down on the ground with Richie, he had band-aids in his hands and disinfectant.

Richie couldn’t even make a joke as Eddie wiped away his tears with tissue, the tears stung the wound, so he was glad that Eddie gently wiped them away. He kept his gaze straight and unseeing as Eddie carefully rubbed the cream on his cheek; he couldn’t even feel the pain.

Eddie gently smoothed a band-aid over Richie’s cheek, he cupped his face, “Rich, are you going to be okay?” he asked softly, he felt his own eyes water when Richie’s dark eyes finally focused on his.

Richie shakily exhaled, drinking in the sight of Eddie, he was alive and okay and Richie was going to keep it that way. He breathed in slowly before letting out a much calmer breath, “Yes.”

He can see a future with Eddie and like fuck Richie will lose him, even if he has to make a career out of it, to kill every evil fucking person on this planet if it means Eddie will live safer and better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie, so I guess I'm just gonna make this a "mini" series lmao of just random one-shots of being a hitman husband adkfjdlj 
> 
> Sometimes you just gotta write emotional shite and murder to feel better!

“Would you ever quit?”

The question was so innocent, Eddie didn’t even make it sound like he was judging Richie, like he was simply asking if Richie could curb the habit of smoking cigarettes again and not the fact that Richie was a killer. Richie felt like he could still taste the bitterness of them on his lips, the taste of smoke on his tongue, the nicotine in his lungs; it brought back memories of sharing one with Beverly when they’d hang out under the Derry Bridge, waiting for the others.

It brought back memories of when he and Eddie were official their junior year of high school, only to them and their friends, but Richie vividly remembered when he was out on a splintering picnic bench with their red-haired friend, she was about to pass the cigarette to him and Eddie had intervened, getting angry with them and hissed at Richie if he didn’t stop, Eddie would break up with him.

Richie never quit a habit so quickly, stone cold turkey that day in September.

Which then brought up a better memory, when they were in college, Eddie was free of his mother by having a dorm on campus and Richie had obviously signed up to be his “roommate” and god, what a perfect cover that had been for them. He remembered the second time Eddie had asked him to quit smoking, it was left over pot that some dude-bro of Richie’s gave to him for letting him copy off his homework, and Richie was using the rest of it after a long week of class and prep exams.

He had managed to get Eddie under him in one of the twin-sized beds, Richie had been feeling affectionate and clingy, just lazily making out with his boyfriend just because he could and that it was Friday and Eddie wasn’t going to be such a tightwad about studying.

Richie remembered giving Eddie his first experience of shotgunning, he had told Eddie to relax, took a deep hit before leaning back to kiss Eddie and exhaled the smoke into Eddie’s slightly slack mouth, which Eddie then pushed Richie off him, spluttering and coughing angrily about how gross that was, about him whining about his asthma, and to never do that again.

Jokes on Eddie, because he was into it for a year before asking Richie to focus more on his degree, which Richie agreed to, he was doing well and he didn’t want to fuck up his future, even though at one point he thought about dropping out and becoming a comedian, because fuck midterm exams. So, pot had been a fleeting thing as well, but really, Richie couldn’t complain as that shit usually got expensive and Richie had careers that needed him clearheaded and focused.

“Richie?” Eddie lightly prodded at his husband, who remained quiet for eerie amount of time. He could feel how tense Richie was while in bed and it made him feel a little bad to bring it up, but he was curious, he wondered if Richie could ever consider giving it all up to live a normal life again.

“Quit?” Richie echoed, but continued to stare up at the ceiling of their bedroom; it was late out, he had returned a little after two in the morning, but he was still wound up. It hadn’t even been a taxing hit, he literally bipped the guy through his kitchen window, Richie had disassembled the gun, drove around the town and disposed of them miles apart, reported to his handler, and was back home before Eddie could properly panic.

Eddie nodded slowly, not wanting to speak up.

Richie shrugged, “It’s not that easy, Eds. My handler knows me, well, he’s not actively digging to find my real life, I just gave him a cover of who I am. It wouldn’t take him long to actually track me down if he wanted to find me.”

Eddie frowned, “You can’t just leave then? Wipe your hands of it?”

“No,” Richie replied softly, he heard Eddie sigh. “I…don’t think I could give it up either, to be truthful.”

That stung.

Eddie murmured that he was tired, rolled over, his back to Richie now, and dragged the blanket up to his chin.

Richie spent the rest of the night staring up the ceiling with his chest hurting.

~~~

Richie pulled his plain black baseball cap over his head; he left his jacket unzipped during the hunt, he was warm due to the low thrum of nerves, even though he could see his breath fanning out in front of him in the night; nothing else mattered in this moment other than his assignment.

He had his sniper rifle mounted on the concrete wall, he pulling back the loading leaver on his gun, it was ready, he looked at the crosshairs in the scope and breathed slowly, finger hovering above the trigger.

His target ducked through the crowd of people that were in the backyard party of the random house, it would be an easy cover once he could take him out, this guy was a scumbag trafficker, his “hobbies” would be drawn forth, and if his crew knew any better, they’d fuck off, because their whole operation had been jumped.

His target stilled and Richie waited, he couldn’t take the shot without startling the rest of the civilians there. Richie grumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes a bit before letting his gaze focus, he glanced at the other person the target was speaking to and his heart froze solid in his chest.

It was Eddie.

“He has fucking friends?” Richie gapped. It was a harsh thing to say, but in his defense, Eddie always denied going to friend’s houses for dinners, backyard barbeques, holiday parties, and/or work dinners; Eddie just wasn’t a social person.

Richie stared at his husband through the scope, freaking the fuck out silently, because of all fucking people his adorable husband spoke to that night, it was a goddamn trafficker. He gritted his teeth, a rush of fury overtook him at the idea of anything happening to Eddie, Richie focused his gaze back onto his target, sneering at the inviting grin that man had on his face, laughing airily at whatever Eddie had said.

“Keep your fucking creep hands to yourself, asshole,” Richie hissed, nearly pulling the trigger when the guy slapped at Eddie’s shoulder playfully. He pulled back and unloaded his gun, and disassemble it, carefully, yet quickly repacking it back in its cast briefcase. He latched it shut and crammed it in his trunk, tossing his ballcap in there too; he was already wearing his business shirt under the jacket, and he wore his casual, yet nice jeans for Friday for work, as he knew he wasn’t going to be home until the next morning, so he dressed in a relaxed fit as he was going to be doing recon that night; he’d blend in.

Well, change of fucking plans, _fuck_.

Richie climbed into his car and quickly took the road down below, it took him a total of five minutes to get to the house party and parked towards the end of the street, he got out and locked his car, stuffing his keys into his jeans, before sticking his hands into his jacket pockets and walked briskly to the house.

He knocked twice and heard someone ambling over to the door, he assumed it was the wife of the house, her blonde hair was curled prettily, dressed in a thick sweater dress in a deep rusty orange color; Richie vaguely recalled her being a coworker of his husband’s, but he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries; he wanted Eddie _now_.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted Richie, making it sound like a question. She studied him before clicking her tongue, “Oh! I’m so sorry, you’re Eddie’s husband! Randy, right? He has a picture of you and your dog on his desk!” she smiled.

“Richie,” he corrected her a bit curtly, but he forced a smile nonetheless. “Sorry for showing up late, I had to stay late at the office, Eds gave me your address to meet him here.”

“You poor thing! Come in, come in!” she ushered him inside. “I’m Jessica if you need anything, and the last I saw, Eddie was out back talking with my cousin, Bryan.”

_Fucking perfect._

Richie thanked her and made his way outside, there was a mingling group in the living room, chatting joyfully about some popular drama, but he never watched it. He went out the sliding glass door that lead out the backyard, fairy-lights were strung up to lighten the area, a firepit was on the patio, a few others were gathered around the area to stay warm as they talked.

He weaved his way through and finally saw his beloved standing by the fence line where he last saw him, he saw his target looming over Eddie, who was smiling up at the man kindly, nodding at whatever _Bryan_ was saying. Richie slipped into his social persona as he approached the two, he saw Eddie glance at him from around Bryan, looking confused.

“Richie?” Eddie blinked.

“Hey, baby, sorry for showing up late,” Richie apologized. “Long day in the office, Mike nearly blew the deal with the Craemers, you remember me bitching about that right? That ridiculous couple with the high standards? Did you not get my text?” he prattled on.

Eddie had shaken his head and took his phone from his pocket, he saw the text Richie had sent him, a clown emoji next to words in all caps: GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.

“R-right, them,” Eddie nodded, feeling a bit woozy now as he swiped away the message and pocketed his phone; he felt Richie’s arm wrap around his waist and as much as he wanted to remain huffy and pull away because of the night before, he could feel how jittery his husband was behaving. “Did it go well?” he asked, forcing himself to calm down.

“Yea, up until Mr. Craemer saw that Mrs. Craemer had gone to another relator, spending _more_ money than what was in their budget, oof, it was almost a real mess,” Richie continued and slid his gaze over to the other man, who was at least an inch shorter than him. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to cut in your guy’s conversation.”

“No harm,” Bryan smiled easily, the warmth never reached his eyes. He offered his hand for Richie to shake, which he begrudgingly did; he missed the way Richie had wiped his hand on his jeans.

Ugh, he had Jessica’s smile. Could cousins even get similar genes like that?

“So, I’m Richie, Eddie’s beloved nuisance, and I didn’t quite catch your name,” Richie carefully drawled with a voice of ease that Bryan had laughed softly in politeness; Richie was good at drawing people in, even if he could be the most annoying bastard on the block.

“I’m Bryan, just a passing party person, I wanted to see my cousin before I left town,” Bryan said. He looked around the area, “She has a nice home here, I’m proud of her.”

“She set up a lovely party,” Eddie praised, he could feel Richie shivering against him like a wire about to snap. He cooed softly, “Rich, are you cold? You’re shivering like a leaf!” he commented with a nervous laugh and started rubbing his hands up and down Richie’s arms to channel some warmth, but it was more of an anxious thing because Richie had a strange look on his face, his eyes were trained on Bryan like he was prey.

“Ah,” Richie snapped out of it and slapped his at his forehead, “I left my thicker jacket at my office, dammit, I was just _so_ excited to get here for the food,” he mused. He twined his fingers with Eddie’s as he looked at Bryan, “We’ll move to the firepit, did you want to join us?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to impose,” Bryan replied, his gaze moved to linger on Eddie, “I was just popping in, I’ve got a long flight ahead tonight. I need to take off to the airport.”

Richie hummed sympathetically, despite the fact that he could feel a vicious sneer trying to pull onto his lips, “Sucks man, well it was nice meeting you, have a safe flight.”

“Thanks, it was nice meeting you both,” Bryan nodded to them, eyes still on Eddie before he excused himself softly.

Richie’s eyes followed him all the way inside the house and he jumped when he felt Eddie slap his arm, he looked down and saw the worried, yet pissed glare he was getting, “What?”

“Don’t _what_ me,” Eddie hissed softly. “Who is that guy?”

Richie frowned, “One of the many people you should be certainly avoiding,” he replied and saw that Eddie looked stricken. “Baby, I should take you home, okay?” he had leaned down to murmur that in Eddie’s ear, but it wasn’t a suggestion; he wanted Eddie far from here.

“Richie, no, that man is Jessica’s cousin,” Eddie whispered pleadingly. “She’s such a sweet young girl, don’t hurt her family.”

Richie glanced around them, no one was close enough to hear him, “He’s on my list, I’m getting him,” he stated firmly. He hugged Eddie to him then, “God, I was so scared when I saw you in my crosshairs,” he murmured softly.

“Your _what—”_

“Baby, have your fit later, I gotta do something,” Richie interrupted him, kissing Eddie. “I’ll be back in a few, all right?”

“Ri-Richie!” Eddie spluttered, grabbing onto Richie’s jacket sleeve, he saw that he got a few curious looks and he cleared his throat softly, ducking his head, murmuring that it was nothing.

Richie gave him another look over and gave him a winked before walking away. He passed through the backyard and headed into the living room, he saw Jessica making more hot chocolate, “Hey,” he called and she looked up, giving him a smile, “could you point me to the restroom?”

“Down the hall, last door on your left,” Jessica informed him.

“Thanks!” Richie chirped. He slinked down the hall and into the bathroom, he saw that the window was just big enough for him to get through, he remembered scouting the house of all exits before setting camp where he faced the backyard, the bathroom was still in view.

He shimmed his way out, cursing lowly under his breath because this shit was so much easier to do when he was in his 20s. Richie landed on his feet in the gravel with a soft grunt, he saw Bryan loitering outside on his phone. He waited until Bryan started walking and Richie saw that he was finally given a window of opportunity, as Bryan had turned down a dark alleyway, and what confused him was that he could hear Eddie’s voice too, because what the actual _fuck_? He warned Eddie to steer clear of this fucking douche bag.

Richie pulled up his hood, lifted the back of his jacket, grabbing the handgun and the silencer from the waist of his jeans, he quickly twisted it on, he quietly unclicked the safety button. He could hear the low lull of Bryan’s tone, he was saying something to Eddie, who hadn’t replied for a moment, before there was a soft thud and he certainly heard Eddie’s shocked gasp.

“C’mon, what do you mean you’re just following me out here, leaving your clueless husband inside, how do you think I’m going to take this?” Bryan mused; Richie could hear Eddie stammering. “Gotta admit, you’re pretty fucking cute.”

Richie stood in the dark, he could barely make out Eddie being pinned to what he assumed was Bryan’s car. The monster beneath his skin snarled wildly and Richie could only hear white noise humming in his ears as he stalked forward, his boots crunching trash under his feet.

He heard a confronting shout coming from Bryan’s mouth, but Richie was already pulling the trigger, it lit up the darkness briefly, but even in those two quick bursts of light, he could see the shock on Bryan’s face.

Bryan fell facedown onto the alleyway ground.

Hands were grabbing him and Richie nearly lashed out, but he could hear Eddie’s terrified voice cutting though the buzzing in his ears, he turned his head and he felt clammy, shaking hands cupping his face, the white noise faded out and he heard Eddie practically sobbing.

“Richie, please, _please_, snap out of it,” Eddie pleaded, tears were running down his cheeks. “You’re scaring me,” he whispered. “_Richie,_” Eddie sobbed. He let out a startled cry when Richie grabbed him and pulled him close, almost suffocating him with the strong grip his husband had on him.

Richie shook as he clutched Eddie close, he had dropped the gun and it clattered, luckily it hadn’t gone off. He curled his fingers in Eddie’s dark hair, holding his head against him, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice raw. “I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that.”

Eddie didn’t reply, he was just shaking and crying softly against Richie’s chest. He felt himself jolt with fear when Richie pulled him back, “Rich—”

“Shh, no, listen to me, I know you’re upset, but you gotta go back inside,” Richie told him quickly. He couldn’t see the expression on Eddie’s face, “If his cousin reports him missing and if someone saw you leave with him, you’ll be a suspect, Eddie, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie choked out. He wiped at his face, he was fortunate enough that when he was done crying, he didn’t look like a wreck, he felt Richie pull him into a kiss, it was frantic and stung, but Eddie didn’t pull away until Richie did.

“Baby, go inside, I’ll meet you there,” Richie murmured, spinning Eddie around nudging him forward. He watched Eddie go back inside, before glancing at the ground and looked back up, there was a giant dumpster bin and it was pick up day tomorrow. He made quick work to haul the body into the dumpster, being careful not to get his fingerprints on anything, he grabbed his gun as well.

It was the fastest cleanup he had ever done, there was a soft roll of thunder in the distance and Richie sighed in relief; it wouldn’t be that bad of a cleanup for once. 

Richie made it back to the window he crawled out of and flushed the toilet, washed his hands and saw the blood and grime swirl down the drain. He wiped his hands on his jeans and slid out of the bathroom, the thrum of music helped calm him, the warm air from the heater warmed up his frozen face. Richie looked into the living room and saw Eddie sitting on the couch, a mug of fresh hot chocolate sat on the coffee table in front of him, eyes trained on it.

Richie made his way over, he sat down carefully to not startle Eddie and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “We’ll stay for a little while longer,” he murmured. “Drink up, warm yourself a little.”

Eddie side-eyed him and shakily leaned forward to take the mug and held it between his hands to warm him, “I can’t do this, Richie, I just want to go home.”

“Soon,” Richie promised. He saw Jessica approaching them, “Hey, got anymore of that?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course!” Jessica nodded. She looked around, “Did either of you see where Bryan went?” she asked.

Eddie felt his mouth dry up.

Richie shook his head, “He said he was taking off, said something about getting out of town?” he tilted his head before looking at Eddie, who nodded in agreement.

Jessica still looked unhappy, “I wish I had seen him before he went, oh well, I’ll just text him in the morning,” she sighed. She looked at the both of them, “You two look super tired, you two don’t have to stay! I was just happy that Eddie was over for once or at least agreed to have a friendly hangout!” she mused.

“It was fun, thank you,” Eddie managed to get out, sitting the drink back down on the coffee table. “I’m sorry, I’m just not a very fun person to hang out. The most we do is stay up to 10:30 on a Friday night watching Jeopardy,” he confessed.

Jessica laughed, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Well, it was nice to see you and your stud of a husband too,” she winked at Richie.

Richie chuckled before looking over to Eddie, they had an out now, “Okay, Sweetums, ready to head out then? We gotta take care of Pompy before we go to bed.”

Eddie was nodding, he shakily stood, Richie was helping him up, “Guess I’m more tired than I thought, sucks getting old,” he tried to make a joke, but he honestly felt like puking.

“When your legs don’t work like they used to,” Richie sang off key, causing Jessica to laugh again. He winked at her, “Thanks for having us over, nice party by the way, I totally look forward to the next one.”

“Of course! Thanks for coming!” Jessica smiled brightly, she led them to the front door and walked them out, standing on the front porch and waved them off.

Richie nudged Eddie gently when they were standing at Eddie’s car, “Are you okay to drive yourself home?”

“Yes,” Eddie nodded meekly; he could feel Richie’s inquisitive gaze from behind his glasses. “I promise…I just need to be alone for a few anyway, okay?”

“Sure, baby,” Richie didn’t try to make a joke; he knew when Eddie was at his limit and this was so passed his limit that Richie was surprised that Eddie hadn’t just snapped off the deep end. He watched Eddie drive off before he turned to head down the end of the block to get into his car, which he just sat there for a moment after stuffing his disassembled gun into his glovebox, before running his hands down his face, letting out a heavy sigh, and then he finally started his car and drove home.

It was certainly the longest drive for Richie, he was half tempted to speed up to get home all that much quicker, he was just uneasy, upset for Eddie that he had experienced that, upset with himself because of his lack of control.

Richie got home after Eddie and when he got inside, the lights were still off, but he could see the bathroom light was one, it spilled out from under the door, he could hear the shower running.

He paused briefly at the closed door, he could hear Pompeii snuffling from the other side, he could see the tiny shadow at the threshold of the door, Richie sighed quietly and kept walking until he got to the bedroom and used the master bathroom; he wondered if he should sleep in the guest bedroom that night.

Richie washed up, brushed his teeth, and pulled on his sleep clothes. When he came out of the bathroom, he saw that Eddie was curled up under the blankets, Pompeii was curled up in his doggy bed on Eddie’s side.

Richie refrained from sighing out loud, he moved to leave the bedroom, when Eddie’s quiet voice rung out to him.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asked him, turning on the bedside lamp, he sat up to look at Richie, his dark eyes expressed nothing.

It had freaked out Richie out, he sat down on the edge of the bed, closest to his husband, “I was going to give you some space, I really upset you,” Richie murmured.

“You’re not going back, are you?” Eddie asked him hesitantly.

Richie’s heart broke when he heard the tremble there, “No, I’m done, I’m not going back, honey.”

“Okay,” it was simple reply and Eddie sunk back down in their bed. He clicked the lamp off and curled back up on his side, “Can you just lie down with me, please?”

Richie did just that, although a bit hesitantly. He pushed himself up against Eddie’s back, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s waist, he felt his husband link their fingers; he could feel the faint tremble in Eddie’s hand. Richie felt his eyes burn, “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Why did he have to die?” Eddie’s voice was shaky again.

“He was a bad man, Eddie,” Richie murmured, kissing the back of his husband’s neck; the skin was clammy. “He was a human trafficker.”

Eddie’s breath shuddered, “Are you fucking serious?” he turned in Richie’s hold, he looked up into Richie’s eyes. “He fucking sold people?” he hissed.

“No, he would find people, drug them and ship them off, his next location was to head to France and ship foreigners. The business he’s in will be taken care of by the people over in Europe,” Richie informed him, he heard the disbelieving scoff.

“Did he fucking take that plot from _Taken_, what the fuck?!” Eddie shrilled. He felt Richie’s arm tighten around him and he laughed nervously, “Are you suggesting that he was going to take me?” he squeaked. “I’m fucking almost 40, Richie!”

“He did have you pinned against his car, him suggesting that I wasn’t enough for you, and it sounded like he was totally going to try something,” Richie ticked off. “Baby, you don’t realize how attractive you are, I _still_ have your model magazines you did briefly in college,” he mused and felt Eddie slap at his chest. “What? You’re hot, Eds!”

“Really?” Eddie scoffed, “At _40_?”

“Almost 40, you’re gonna be a real silver fox, babe,” Richie winked, kissing him softly. He hugged Eddie tightly to him, the amusement depleting, “I really was scared. Why did you follow him out, sweetheart?”

Eddie shrugged, he tucked his face against Richie’s chest, “I…I was just upset, I wanted to know what those people you work with saw in Bryan, how they could make you…make you kill him,” his voice got softer at the end.

“I do my own investigations, baby, and he was not a good person,” Richie promised. He kissed Eddie’s forehead again, “Please, you just have to trust me on this stuff, okay? I’m sorry that you were hurt by him, I’m sorry that you saw me do that.”

“I wasn’t hurt, I was just surprised that’s all,” Eddie replied, “and…it’s not your fault, you _saved_ me, Rich,” he reassured him. He cupped Richie’s face, “I love you, you dummy, I don’t think I ever could stop loving you. This…this thing you do, you do it because you’re trying to stop evil people. You got rid of a human trafficker!” he tacked on; a somewhat hysterical laugh escaped him.

“Eddie,” Richie said seriously, “I think you’re in shock.”

“Yea, probably,” Eddie agreed, still chuckling nervously. “It’s sinking in that that guy was probably going to hurt me or take me away.”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t _ever_ let that happen to you, okay?” Richie stated firmly. 

Eddie shivered, the intense gleam was back in Richie’s eyes and he nodded, “I know,” he murmured, he relaxed when Richie rolled him onto his back, languidly kissing him, he felt the terror in him melt away as his eyes slid shut, felt those familiar fingers curl gently into his hair, holding him steady; he was safe.

Richie kissed him twice more, “I’m still sorry,” he murmured, cupping Eddie’s face, his thumb sweeping gently across Eddie’s cheek. He drank in the sight of his husband, still soft and warm from his shower, he kissed Eddie’s forehead, “If I could save you from witnessing that, I would, a thousand times over.”

“Stop being sorry, it’s weird,” Eddie chuckled and accepted the third kiss he got. “It just…I shouldn’t have gone in the first place. I was still upset about our conversation last night that I just didn’t want to be home alone, especially when I saw that you weren’t going to be home either,” he sighed; he could see the guilt on Richie’s face. He told Richie to settle down and his husband easily went with it, even if his expression was still pinched in worry, so Eddie cuddled up to him, he sighed softly as Richie held him snug again in his arms. 

Richie kissed the top of Eddie’s head, exhaling gently about the somewhat averted crisis, and he could feel Eddie relaxing, most likely drifting off to sleep. He supposed he should have worried more that Eddie had a not so hysterical reaction to what happened, but he wasn’t going to press it, it also took Eddie a day or two to actually process shock, but Richie would be there to keep him safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Short porn chapter time!
> 
> Rly, nothing happens other than bjs and Eddie being exasperated and tired, and Richie for real has a post-murder kink (he just won't admit it).
> 
> Mm, I still don't really know what to write after this.....I "feel" like I covered most the material that I wanted for this speckled one-shot fic thingy, but if ya'll think there's other things or something you'd like to be written, hmu, I'll get to writing and credit ya'll in the notes! c:

After three months of Richie’s newish side job (Eddie _still_ doesn’t know how long Richie has actually done this), Eddie made a mental checklist to go over when Richie came home to him.

No matter how late or early he came home, Eddie always checked over his husband by sitting him down on the closed toilet. He’d start by gently carding his fingers through Richie’s hair, asking him gently if anything hurt or if he wanted to talk, but for the most part, Richie was steel lipped about his target jobs.

It took Eddie a while to get over the fact that Richie didn’t want him to know what happened or what he did, he could see the shame in Richie’s eyes, even when Richie kept his gaze down as Eddie would carefully swipe a warm washcloth across his face to get rid of any dirt and grime, he’d then clean Richie’s hands, even getting under his fingernails and clean all that up.

He’d tell Richie to get cleaned up, Eddie would go all domesticated 50s house-wife as much as he hated it, because fuck that era, but he’d bring Richie clean sleep clothes, set them on the sink counter, and make Richie a toasted PB&J sandwich with the crusts cut off, as that has always been his comfort food.

They wouldn’t talk about the job, Richie would sit on the couch after getting cleaned up, eat his food, watching shitty infomercials if it was _that_ late out when he came home, with Eddie curled up next to him. 

“C’mon let’s go to bed,” Richie said softly when he felt Eddie nodding off on his shoulder. He had finished his sandwich a while ago, drank the glass of the lactose-free milk, thanks Spaghetti Head, but he hadn’t realized how zoned out he was until a particular loud salesman for cleaning supplies surprised him out of his stupor and Eddie knocking his head on his shoulder.

Eddie sleepily murmured, “Don’t forget to rinse the plate and cup,” before getting up groggily and shuffling off towards their bedroom. Luckily, it was Friday, well, technically Saturday morning, a few hours before 8 in the morning, so he could sleep in a little longer.

He had only been lying for a few minutes before feeling Richie sliding into bed, pressing up against his back and Eddie hummed sleepily as Richie kissed at his neck and had an arm coiled around his waist, feeling Richie's right hand starting to ghost lower, undoing each button slowly of his nightshirt, “Rich, I’m too tired to do anything,” Eddie slurred, nuzzling into his pillow.

“Then just lie back, baby,” Richie hummed into his husband’s ear. 

Eddie huffed out a soft laugh, cracking open an eye when Richie rolled him onto his back, “Are you sure you don’t have a post-murder kink?” he asked and shivered as his shirt was completely undone and the blanket had been pulled off him. He felt himself getting hard as Richie started kissing down his chest, warm lips pressing to his chilled skin, and it caused tingles to roll down his spine; he gasped softly when he felt Richie nip gently at his lower belly.

Richie chose not to answer and leaned back over Eddie, palming him, kissing Eddie softly, taking more of the lead than usual as Eddie was just sleepy and compliant under him. He kissed along Eddie’s jaw, smooth and soft after a fresh shave, and moved to kiss and nip lightly at his husband’s neck, listening to Eddie’s breath stutter with each sharp bite and with each teasing squeeze.

“_Richie_,” Eddie shakily sighed, tilting his hips up. He groaned softly as Richie moved slowly worked his way back down his chest and Eddie let out a soft whine as Richie mouthed at him through his sleep pants before tugging down his pants, “God, Riche, fucking quit it…I’m so tired, _please_ don’t drag this ou—_ohh_…”

Richie hummed, flexing his fingers tightly on Eddie’s hips to hold his husband steady as he bobbed his head. He pulled off and listened to Eddie gasp, “I know, baby, just relax, I’ve got you,” Richie promised before going back down on Eddie, who keened loudly, when Richie took all of him into his mouth.

Eddie felt his legs tense and he clung to the headboard and it was obvious that Richie was trying to get him off in a new record, because even though he sassed Richie about being a trashmouth, he was really, _really_ fucking good as using his mouth.

Richie sucked a bit harder at Eddie’s tip and that seemed do the trick, because the next moment Eddie was coming and Richie was trying not to dirty their sheets. He licked his lips, “A good husband always swallows,” he rasped, tugging Eddie’s sleep pants back over him. “And covers their man after a rather successful blowjob.”

Eddie wiped the sweat from his hairline, “An even better husband brushes their teeth before trying to kiss their significant other after just blowing them,” he muttered, blocking Richie’s kiss with his hand.

Richie harrumphed against Eddie’s palm before slowly getting up to go do what Eddie asked him to do, “Your mom never minded after I went down on her,” he muttered and heard Eddie gag and he threw him a cheeky grin as he went to the bathroom.

“You’re so lucky you’re good with your mouth or I’d boot you to the couch,” Eddie grumbled, rolling onto his front with a small wince as his dick twitched from the friction. He jumped when he felt Richie smack him on the ass, “That wasn’t two minutes of brushing, Richie.”

“It was 30 seconds too long,” Richie replied. “Also, I brushed my teeth, like, twice before coming to bed, so it cancels out,” he stated.

“Uhh, _no,_” Eddie mumbled and grumbled when Richie pulled him close to kiss all over his face. “I’m tired, Richie!” he whined loudly. “I’m old, bedtime is at 9:30, the latest, 10:00,” he reminded him.

“Baby, I _hate_ to be the bearer of bad news, but the sun is rising in,” Richie paused to look at the digital clock on their bedside table, “45 or so minutes,” he concluded.

“That’s 45 minutes of darkness and I plan to fucking fall asleep before the damn sun rises, even if I have to smother you,” Eddie grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Aww, I love you too,” Richie cooed and snickered when Eddie covered his mouth so he ended up making a snorting noise, which made him laugh harder that was making Eddie bitch unhappily. “Okay, okay,” he whispered, eyes crinkling as he was stifling more giggles.

Eddie exhaled slowly, feeling sleep pull at him.

“Eds—”

“Richie, I swear to fucking God, if you do not shut your mouth and eyes and go to fucking sleep, Pompeii will take your spot and you can sleep in his bed,” Eddie hissed, while he kept his eyes shut.

Richie kissed Eddie’s forehead, “Night, Sweetums.”

Eddie merely grunted and cuddled against Richie.


	6. Spooky Time, Babeeeyyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Early Halloween, I'm not gonna wait until then, bc that's like a week and a half away lmao
> 
> Thank you to my lovely friend Webtrinsic for the prompting and ideas!!! <3 I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!~~ c:

_1994 – October_

Richie had just managed to coax Eddie’s lips apart when there was an insistent pounding on their dorm door. He was all for just ignoring the person/issue until it went away; he was a lover, not a fighter...sometimes...

Eddie, his dearly beloved spaz of a boyfriend, cared too much all the damn time, which was why he immediately started to wriggle under Richie, shoving his hands onto Richie’s chest and pushing at him to get off, cursing lowly, as he was pinned under his lanky boyfriend on his teeny twin-sized mattress.

“Ignore’em,” Richie murmured, pushing down until Eddie’s struggling shoving was ceased, due to Richie pinning Eddie’s hands between their chests. He used the major distraction, which was kissing down Eddie’s neck, who almost instantly went boneless under him and Richie had to fight back a smug smirk as he worked his way back up to kiss his boyfriend once more; it seemed to be doing the trick as Eddie’s hands were moving to curl into Richie’s hair, and the knobby knees that had been pressing into Richie’s ribs had gone lax once more, so Richie could rest easily between Eddie’s legs.

Again, Richie only got to trace the seam of Eddie’s lips once more before the knocking got louder and Richie gritted his teeth and leered over his shoulder, about to shout at the person to fuck off, but then he recognized Beverly’s muffled voice on the other side.

“Bev?” Eddie asked, a bit dazedly.

Richie looked back down at his boyfriend, swallowing hard and as he felt himself get a little more riled up at the flushed cheeks, darker eyes, and redder lips; _Jesus, _Richie wanted Eddie right now. He cleared his throat, “Yea,” Richie’s voice still cracked.

“Off,” Eddie ordered, moving his hands to Richie’s shoulders and pushed a bit more gently this time, as it was their friend, who was aware of their relationship. He rolled his eyes at Richie bitched and moaned about Beverly cockblocking him. He tried to tame down his ruffled hair and watched Richie answer the door, a bit stiffly and it was Eddie’s turn to smirk, because Richie was certainly getting the case of blue balls.

Beverly shot Richie a dirty look as she shouldered by him to get inside the couple’s room, “Don’t mind me, take your fucking time!”

“Uh, I was,” Richie replied as he basically slammed the door shut. “Taking my time getting into Eddie’s mouth before you came at my door, knocking like you were the fucking cops!”

“Richie, shut the fuck up,” Eddie seethed. An embarrassed blush crept up his face as Beverly turned to look at him with a wicked grin, “He’s being stupid, he was—”

“Trying to get into your pants, don’t worry, I’ll keep your virginity safe until you’re married,” Beverly teased him, acting as if she hadn’t walked in on them by accident. In short, Eddie had given her his key, as she had left her economics book in their room from a study session, her class let out earlier than expected, she popped by, and luckily only saw Richie’s bare shoulders that were getting clawed up, before backing the fuck up out of there.

Needless to say, it had been difficult to look Eddie in the eye for a while after hearing what he sounded like when he was desperate; Beverly honestly tried not to tease him about it now, but it was so funny watching him splutter and threaten Richie to never have sex with him again.

“So, what do we owe the pleasure of Queen Marsh?” Richie asked, discreetly adjusting his jeans as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed, where Eddie was now sitting up against the headboard, but had a pillow trapped between his arms; giving it a fully body hug.

“Ben emailed me,” Beverly smiled; she was all for this new tech gig, “he had been in town and ran into Mike, almost literally,” she giggled. “Mike’s going to send out invitations to us and some other friends for a Halloween party he’s having at his barn.”

Richie cocked his head, “All right,” he drawled, prompting her to continue, but she looked confused. He frowned, “Wait, he wants us to dress up and come to his party? We aren’t middle schoolers anymore.”

“Wow, I thought I was going to need you to convince Eddie to come,” Beverly looked genuinely surprised that Richie seemed uninterested, as far as she knew, Halloween had been Richie’s favorite holiday because of candy he could devour, while listening to Eddie prattle on about cavities, and all the pranks Richie and she could set up for the others.

Stan had been pissed that they had tampered his shampoo and his hair had been a bright pumpkin orange, but the joke had been on them because Stan looked really good with pastel pink hair when the orange had faded.

Eddie wasn’t so surprised about Richie’s refusal; his boyfriend had been a little off since the day in the sewers, even if that had been about seven years ago, and it seemed that he was the only one to realize it, as even before he had Richie got together, he knew Richie the best, other than Stan. Which, he and Stan had briefly talked about it, promising to inform each other if Richie seemed to behaving weirder than usual, more unusual at least.

Richie shrugged at her, “Dunno, just haven’t been in the festive spirit, it just seems all…trivial, Bev. For fucks, sake, I’m going to be 20 next year, and I’ve got more important things to worry about other than getting indirect kisses from bobbing for apples; I got Eddie and I don’t want him to go into shock,” he tried to make it light towards the end, but even to his own ears, it sound forced.

Beverly frowned, “You’re just going to blow off another year of spookiness?”

“Oh, I’ll _blow_ something, Bev—”

“_Richie_,” Eddie snapped, glowering at Richie, who just gave him an innocent smile. He looked more gently back at Beverly, “We’d love to go, Halloween is next Saturday, right? We’ll have our costumes picked before then and meet you all at Mike’s.”

Beverly looked so relieved, “Good,” she smiled and then gave Richie a firm look. “If you bitch out, I’m finding Eddie a better boyfriend.”

Richie felt his skin tingle unpleasantly and he could only give her a tight smile, “I better grow a pair then,” he replied. “Prepare for you losers to get trampled in the dust by our costumes.”

“You’re on,” Beverly shook his hand before telling them farewell and left.

“Hey,” Eddie murmured and crawled over and gently placed his hands on Richie’s shoulders; he could feel how tense he was. He frowned worriedly, “Rich, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go. I was just telling Bev that we would so I wouldn’t have to listen to you guys bicker.”

Richie shrugged and leaned his head back to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “I’ll be fine, Spagheds,” he didn’t seem so cheerful and couldn’t even fake it to sound happy. He felt Eddie rub at his shoulders, “I’ll be fine, Eddie, I promise.”

Eddie leaned forward to kiss his cheek, “We’re doing something cool, if you make us do something sexual like a plug and socket, I’m breaking up with you,” he warned and felt himself grow warm when Richie actually giggled.

~~~

“How are you so good at makeup?” Eddie asked, he heard Richie tell him to hush, as Richie was gingerly painting on stitches onto his lips that made it look like he was smiling, Richie had already painted his lips black after painting his face a light blue, he was supposed to be Sally from the _Nightmare Before Christmas_, and Richie was going as Jack Skellington.

“By doin’ your mom’s make up, she was _so_ picky,” Richie mumbled and chuckled when Eddie slapped at his arm. 

So far, Eddie was quite impressed with Richie’s work.

Richie’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration and got the left side of Eddie’s face done, the right cheek was set and finished and Richie was carefully making the stitches on Eddie’s forehead, by gently combing back the Eddie’s fringe that Richie had used red hair paint, which somehow looked more realistic than he thought.

Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut as his boyfriend careful fingers kept his hair off his forehead and smiled when he felt Richie’s lips press to the top of his head, “What was that for?”

“What, I need a reason to kiss you now?” Richie asked and smiled when Eddie opened his eyes to look at him. “Plus, I can’t really kiss you tonight because I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie replied. He heard Richie say that he was putting on the finishing touches before holding Eddie back by the shoulders, eyes flickering back and forth. He frowned a little and saw Richie give him a look, “Just missing your dumb glasses, your eyes looked so much bigger, but prettier.”

“Aww, you think my eyes are pretty?” Richie cooed, batting his eyelashes.

Eddie felt a blush covering his cheeks, “Yes,” he mumbled lowly and grimaced as Richie cooed louder.

“I wish I could kiss your cute, cute, cute cheeks!” Richie whined and laughed when Eddie told him to fuck off. His smile was much softer, more sincere, “You look good.”

Eddie finally went to the full length mirror that he had bought because he was tired of Richie not straightening his clothes out before class, he only saw a little bit because he had been curious, but now, seeing it, he really did look like Sally, he left his hair natural, it was wavy and bouncy without the product he used to try to tame it down, he looked like he legit had thick threaded stitches in his face and around his neck, Richie had even used a little bit of kohl around his eyes to make his eyes look darker against the pale blue skin paint.

“Do you like it?” Richie asked him somewhat hesitantly.

“Rich, I _love _it,” Eddie responded in earnest; his heart wobbled because Richie was practically glowing. “You did so well, did you want me to help you with yours? I’m afraid I might ruin it,” he got sheepish towards the end.

“You can just paint my face and I’ll work on the details,” Richie responded sitting where Eddie had been. “Just put a white base down and I’ll finish everything else, babe.”

“You’re already pale though,” Eddie teased.

Richie squinted at him and sulked until Eddie hugged him close, carding his fingers through his hair, “You can’t win like this all the time, you know,” Richie’s voice was muffled against the patchwork shirt Eddie wore for his costume.

“You don’t seem to be complaining,” Eddie replied smugly and pulled away to grab the white face paint and a fresh makeup sponge. He sat down on the chair in front of Richie and rubbed white paint onto it before gently applying it to Richie’s face, starting at his chin.

Richie didn’t take his eyes off Eddie a single moment, watching the way his boyfriend’s gaze remained focused on him as he evenly spread the creamy face paint onto Richie’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“You’re being a major creep,” Eddie commented without looking at Richie. He booped Richie on the nose, smiling and looked at his boyfriend, growing weak kneed by that intense gaze, despite sitting down.

“You just look so good,” Richie murmured, eyes still sweeping over Eddie’s face.

“Really, with stitches in my face and skin so blue that I’m dead?” Eddie asked him with an amused laugh.

“Really,” Richie replied and was quiet for the rest of the time.

~~~

They certainly got a few (_a lot_) of stares and passing praises for their costumes all the way outside, and when they got to Richie’s hatchback, (it took him a whole summer and a half of savings and some graduation money to buy it from Mr. Beyers, his neighbor), he opened the passenger door and waited until Eddie was buckled in before shutting the door and going over to the driver’s side.

Richie got in and turned on their mixtape, Eddie started to hum softly under his breath, Richie then turned to face his boyfriend, “Will you ever let me hold you hand while I drive?” he asked sweetly.

“And get us killed?!” Eddie shrilled, giving Richie a wide-eyed look. “Keep those hands on 10 and 2, Mister,” he reminded sternly.

“Or, 10 and thigh,” Richie offered and slid his right hand onto Eddie’s upper thigh, his painted white hand stood in contrast with Eddie’s black, ripped jeans, the skin in just those areas had been painted the pale blue too, which Richie had been _extra_ thorough about.

Eddie let out a soft squeak and quickly grabbed Richie’s hand into both of his and hastily pushed it away, “R-Richie, 10 a-and 2!” he snapped; he was lucky his face was painted or Richie would be teasing him about his nervous blush.

Richie just gave him an amused smile, leaned over, kissed the tip of his nose before throwing his car into drive and off to Mike’s they went. He did keep his hands to himself, which he could see in his peripheral that Eddie was looking at him every other second.

“Are you sure that you’re paying attention?” Eddie asked him when he saw Richie’s painted lips trying not to twitch up into a grin. 

“Sure am, baby,” Richie replied and looked over to Eddie, listening to him scream at him to focus on the road. He still gripped Eddie’s left hand into his right hand and dragged it over into his lap, “Play your cards right, baby, and I’ll let you have all the sweets.”

“You’re disgusting,” Eddie replied, but didn’t pull his hand away.

~~~

“You guys made it!” a farmer zombie donned Mike greeted them with a wide smile, and practically pulled them into the decked out barn, filled with spooky lights were strung out in a crisscross above the other people goers who were all dressed up too, paper ghosts hanging around in corners, there were a surplus of carved pumpkins with candles in them, Eddie wondered how long that took, and there was a long buffet table and fruit punch that Richie really hoped was spiked with Vodka.

“Vodka punch?” Richie hopefully asked.

“Vodka punch, thanks to Bev,” Mike reassured him with a grin. “Nice costumes by the way, super spooky and oddly, cute,” he teased, leaving out the couple-y part out.

“Thanks, Richie did all the work,” Eddie informed Mike, who whistled in approval. He looked up at Richie, admiring the stark white face, the dark circles painted around his eyes to look like wide, empty sockets, and had painted his nose to look hollow.

Richie leaned to murmur in Eddie’s ear that he was going to get a drink, while Mike and Eddie caught up. He excused himself and meandered over to the punch bowl and he wasn’t surprised to see Beverly over there, dressed up as a witch and he smiled at her when their eyes met.

“You came!” Beverly beamed, coming over to them, she had Ben by the arm and was bringing her boyfriend over, who had black cat ears on top of his head and a cat nose and whiskers painted on his face.

“Aww, aren’t you two just adorable,” Richie sarcastically cooed and gave Ben a once over, “keep your cat close, Bev, or he might come home with Eds and I,” he teased.

Ben almost choked on his drink, “Jesus, Rich,” he spluttered, cheeks turning red.

Richie merely winked at him and took the offered orange solo cup filled almost to the brim; he could smell the vodka and he downed half of it in one go, he saw the concerned look Beverly was giving him, he just shrugged, “Long week, fucking tired despite it only being a month in.”

“Well, it’s the second year, so I get it,” Beverly replied, she glanced over at Ben, who was chatting with someone neither of them knew, but Ben was happy and smiling and that caused Beverly to smile, although a bit sadly.

Richie followed her gaze, “Miss him that much?”

“Emails can only do so much, he’s sweet though, he sends me poem postcards when he can,” Beverly replied, she still seemed a little sad and gave her friend a small smile when Richie draped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a side hug.

Richie gave her an amused look, “You two haven’t figured out to send each other sexy emails?” he asked her and felt better when Beverly let out a loud laugh and gently elbowed him in the side.

Beverly smiled up at him, the crimson lipstick shiny in the fairy lights, “Never change, Rich,” she said lightly.

Richie plastered on a smile, hoping it could disguise the darkness that was hidden behind his teeth.

~~~

At some point later in the night, Richie spotted Eddie again, his boyfriend had a cup of his own, but he looked like he was swaying a little bit on his feet and Richie frowned, he heard Stan stop talking. “Sorry, what?” he asked, but was still looking at the couple that were on the other side of the barn.

Bill and Stan shared a curious look.

“What’s up?” Stan asked, he followed Richie’s gaze and saw Eddie had moved to lean against a bar stool, some much taller man was talking to Eddie, a bit too close to Eddie’s space bubble. He looked back at Richie and saw the way Richie’s attention was focused on the couple and what made him feel uneasy was that he couldn’t get a read of his friend; Richie looked completely stoic, which was extra creepy with the dead face makeup he had on.

“D-do y-you want m-me to gu-go get th-them?” Bill asked Richie warily.

Richie turned to face Bill and gave him a reassuring smile, “No, I’ll go see if Eds is fine, be back in a sec, guys, don’t worry your fangs, Big Bill” he said and passed Bill his drink before walking over to where Eddie and Mr. Blonde were at.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Eddie had been slipped something, Richie knew he was roofied by how Eddie had a slow reaction speed upon seeing Richie, his face looked clammy, and judging by the annoyed look Mr. Blonde, Richie had cut in at the perfect time.

“Rich,” Eddie slurred quietly, blinking sluggishly.

“Hey, baby, did you have a bit too much?” Richie asked, drawing Eddie flush to his side, arm practically pinning Eddie there. He turned his attention back to Mr. Blonde, who was just a little shorter than Richie, but still loomed over Eddie, which pissed Richie off, “Hey, nice to meet you, I’m Richie,” he slid on his sharpest grin.

Mr. Blonde faltered a bit, “Uhh, A-Aaron,” he said quickly, taken back by the almost sinister smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Aaron,” Richie replied, giving Aaron a quick scan over. “You don’t mind helping me get Eddie to the car, do you? Sorta had too many myself,” he chuckled. He saw that Stan and Bill were still looking at them and he gestured to Eddie and then the barn door, he saw his friends nod.

“So,” Aaron drawled as he awkwardly shuffled after Richie, who was easily hauling Eddie outside, “you two a thing, or what?” he asked. He shivered as a cold brisk wind basically slapped him in the face, he could hear Eddie murmuring incoherently and Richie was murmuring quietly, too quiet for Aaron to hear.

Richie tossed a look over his shoulder, “Yea,” he was short about it, he found his car and unlocked the passenger side and eased Eddie inside. He cupped Eddie’s face gently to not rub the paint off, peering into bleary doe brown eyes, Richie kissed him, but Eddie’s were practically unresponsive under his. After he buckled in Eddie, he softly shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms, “So, _Aaron_, anyone else you roofied tonight trying to get lucky?” he asked simply.

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, “Bro, I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Cut the shit,” Richie sighed, “I saw you.”

“You watched me drug your boyfriend and then do nothing about it?” Aaron scoffed in disbelief.

Richie shrugged, “Had to make sure,” he replied, glancing around; it was pitch black out, not a soul in sight.

“Make sure what—” Aaron cut off his sentence with a grunt, he could feel Richie digging his fingers into his shoulder, he shakily looked down and saw a knife in his chest, Richie’s hand was still wrapped around the handle.

Richie had his lips pinched and aggressively walked Aaron backwards to the trunk of his car, he quickly unlocked the trunk and hefted it up before shoving Aaron down; it was a tight fit.

Aaron was still gurgling and gasping in the back and Richie grabbed the leather gloves from the side bin in the back, he held the leather over Aaron’s face and held that there until Aaron had gone completely still, but those green eyes were still wide open.

“Fuck,” Richie swore softly, he looked around him, he could still hear the loud music coming from the barn, no one was outside except for a clearly drunk couple, stumbling outside for a smoke.

He exhaled softly, he used one glove to yank the knife out of Aaron’s chest, he tucked the folded blade into one of gloves, and them packed those gloves back in the side pocket and pulled the pleather grocery cover over to shield Aaron’s corpse from any prying eyes.

Richie checked on Eddie again, he felt clammy and uneasy seeing Eddie practically motionless, it didn't help that his skin was painted an ash blue-gray of a corpse and the stitches painted on his face; he really looked dead. Richie leaned over, placing shaky fingers on Eddie's neck feeling his pulse; it was steady, he kissed the top of his head, keeping his face in Eddie's red painted hair for a moment longer, exhaling heavily from nerves, and then went back inside the barn. He found Bill and Stan in the same place and the other Losers were with them, minus Eddie, obviously, he smiled as he came up to them, “Sup,” he greeted.

“Hey, is Eddie all right?” Mike asked him worriedly. “Bill said some guy was acting super weird with him?”

“Nah, Eddie just had one too many, the guy was super chill, he helped me get Eddie back to the car,” Richie replied. He could feel Stan gazing at him in intensely and Richie didn’t turn away from Mike, “The other dude left after that, seemed like a cool guy, did any of you know him?”

Ben spoke up, “I think his name was Aaron? He’s in my world history class, but I don’t know him though, because that class is stupid huge and my professor only allows solo work, I don’t think he’d allow us to do group work even if a gun was pointed to his head,” he rolled his eyes at the end.

“Oh, well, if he’s at your school, I guess I can skip asking him in on a date with Eds and me,” Richie chuckled. “Whelp, I got precious cargo in the passenger seat and needs very careful attention, so I’ll catch you guys later, cool? Sick party by the way, Mike,” he winked. He gave each of his friends a quick hug, startling a bit when Stan clung onto his arm, “Stan the Man, what’s up?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Stan asked him, giving him a careful look.

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?” Richie gave him a disbelieving laugh. “You’re being weird and drunk, dude.”

“I’m being responsible,” Stan argued, pushing at Richie. He relaxed when Richie let out a loud laugh, “Just be careful, man, take care of Eddie, give him a glass of water. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his puke.”

“Will do, Mr. Doctor, Sir,” Richie mocked saluted him and did a small moonwalk before twirling away, the smile melting from his face. He walked quickly back to his car and slid into the driver’s seat; he would have to make a detour before getting Eddie back to their dorm. 

He glanced over at Eddie, who was unconscious to the world, Richie gently took his boyfriend’s hand into his right one and held it in his lap as he drove. He smoothed his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles, feeling the slight grittiness from the paint, it made Richie feel bitter because Eddie’s fun had been cut so short.

Richie exhaled a little sharply as he glared in the rearview mirror; he was going to have a _long_ night of disposing the body, the murder weapon, and having to go back to Mike’s on bike to stake out Aaron’s car, if the guy even drove himself here.

_All right, first thing: get rid of the body._

Richie was going to need coffee; it was going to be an annoying fucking night.

~~~

Eddie whined softly as he was processing light from behind his closed eyelids; he rolled over, smelling Richie’s bodywash, he turned his face towards it, his nose pressing into soft skin and he tucked his face into Richie’s chest, “Mmm,” he whined unhappily.

Richie combed his fingers through Eddie’s hair, “You awake?” he asked gently. He leaned down to kiss Eddie’s forehead, he heard his boyfriend mumble again incoherently, “Do you need anything, baby?”

Eddie mumbled something against Richie’s skin and fell silent again. He nuzzled his face firmly against Richie and heard his boyfriend snort out a laugh and those wonderful fingers threaded through his hair.

“Sensitive nips, Eds,” Richie chuckled and yelped when Eddie actually bit him. “Ouch, fucker!”

Eddie sleepily looked up again, cheek still pressed against Richie’s chest, “You’re too loud, _shhh_!” he chided. He tucked his face between the space of Richie’s body and the mattress, “Hungover…”

“I know,” Richie cooed sympathetically. “You had a bit too much fun last night.”

“D’n’t ‘member,” Eddie mumbled.

“I know, you passed out on the way home, had to haul your clingy ass up three flights of stairs, I cleaned your face and hands off of the makeup, and tucked you in,” Richie replied. “Oh, I also made you drink like two glasses of water, boy am I so glad that you didn’t piss the bed, because I don’t know if that would have awoken a kink in me.”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Eddie lifted his head to glare at his boyfriend. “Shut up, let me shower, and we’re getting waffles and bacon.”

“All the grease, just _dripping,_” Richie said in a sultry tone and the next moment, he had to dive off the bed and swipe up the tiny trashcan he had placed by their bed, and just got it under Eddie’s mouth before his boyfriend puked half his body weight out.

By the time Eddie was done, he was rasping and glaring at Richie with watery eyes, “You’re a fucking dickhead,” his voice was scratchy. “You owe be breakfast...when I don’t feel like death.”

Richie just smiled cutely, “I’d give you anything, Eds.”

“Ugh, you’re too sappy this morning, I’m going to puke more,” Eddie gagged.

“Probably just the alcohol poisoning speaking,” Richie replied and went to their mini fridge to get Eddie some water. He twisted the cap off and handed the bottle to his boyfriend, who took a tiny sip, and he saw Eddie’s grimace, “Drink up, hydrate, rest some more, shower, and I’ll take you out to the best breakfast diner on the corner.”

“Gee, my prince in syrupy, waffled armor,” Eddie mumbled sarcastically, dropping his head back onto his pillow. He sighed into his pillow, turning his head to look at Richie, “Please tell me that I was normal.”

“Ooh, baby, half of the college knows we got down and dirty our freshmen year in Mr. Garth’s biology labs,” Richie replied and watched Eddie’s already wide eyes get wider. “Aww, you’re so cute and naïve,” he cooed.

“God, you’re fucking _awful_,” Eddie groaned.

“And all yours, baby,” Richie winked and snuggled him close, listening to Eddie whine and complain as he snuggled Eddie into submission. He kissed his boyfriend’s cheeks and forehead, “Mwah, mwah, drink your water, babe, sleep a lil bit more, get showered, and we can eat later; breakfast tastes better in the evening anyway.”

Eddie frowned, “Are you leaving?”

“Just gotta run some errands real quick, I’ll be back,” Richie promised, giving Eddie’s nose a quick kiss. “Happy post-Halloween, baby! We’ll get some discount candy too, since you were too drunk to go trick-or-treating with me.”

“We’re adults, we do the boring thing and buy it in the store, Rich,” Eddie huffed and slowly sat up to sip at his water. He still twisted his mouth into a disgusted scowl and grimaced when Richie leaned over to him give him a long smooch, “You’re gross, I haven’t even brushed my teeth and I puked!”

“Haven’t brushed my teeth either,” Richie chuckled. He blinked when Eddie cradled his face, “What?”

“Do you have remaining black paint staining around your eyes, or are you just tired?” Eddie asked him worriedly, gently stroking the skin under Richie’s eyes.

“Mm, both, I had to hurry and wash my face and watch over you to make sure you didn’t choke on your tongue to something,” Richie mused wryly. He heard Eddie scoff at him, “Drink the rest of your water and get some sleep.”

“Fine,” Eddie sulked, actually doing what he was asked to do.

“Thank you, because I know it would summon Dr. Stan the Man if he felt something amiss in the Force of his friends being complete idiots and dying of dehydration or some stupid shit,” Richie mused. “Love ya, be back in a few.”

Eddie settled back into bed after putting the water bottle back on the bedside table after Richie left. He frowned when he saw some rusty flakes on his bedsheets, he hastily rubbed off what he thought were paint flecks, grumbling about Richie not being careful about washing all the paint off.

He settled down, eyebrows furrowing slightly as for some reason, Richie and some other man standing together in the dark; he couldn’t hear anything, but Richie did looked vicious; he shook his head and pushed it from his mind, as it must have been some kind of weird dream he had before he woke up.

~~~

As promised, Richie did return to Eddie and when he slid back into their dorm room, he found Eddie already showered and dressed, sprawled belly down across his made bed, reading an old comic, feet idly kicking in the air.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, “Took your grand time, didn’t you?” he asked, but he still had a gentle smile on his lips. He closed the comic and lightly tossed it onto the bedside table and got up, stretching and as he did, Richie crowded up in his space, kissing him.

“Mm, minty fresh and not stale puke and alcohol,” Richie teased and laughed when Eddie slapped his shoulder. He felt Eddie try to step back, but Richie kept his fingers twined in Eddie’s beltloops and kept him close, he rested his forehead against Eddie’s, “I love you, Eddie,” he murmured.

Eddie peered up into those dark, _dark_ eyes; he wondered if he should have felt scared by the intense look, but he wound his arms around Richie’s neck and kissed him softly, “I love you too,” he replied.

Richie didn’t have to ponder the idea of what it would have been like if Aaron had actually taken advantage of Eddie, or had taken him somewhere far from Richie, because it wasn’t even a possibility now; he had gotten rid of the little blip before anything could have happened.

He walked backwards until he felt himself fall backwards onto the bed, he yanked Eddie with him, his boyfriend landing on top of him with a startled yelp and Richie couldn’t help but laugh, cuddling his boyfriend close as Eddie bitched at him.

Richie cupped Eddie’s face and kissed him for as long as he could, sightless green eyes replaced with softly lidded brown eyes that gazed at Richie with gentle love; yea, the shit Richie had endured last night was completely worth it.

And he’d keep doing it too.


	7. Request 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for a post job of Richie's, leading in with anger and worried/fearful Eddie, with a ending of fluff! I hope I did it right!! I will also take any future requests as well if anyone has anything in particular they want to read with this AU!! c:
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and I apologize that it's a lil on the short side and that it took me so long to post....
> 
> I'm also going to That Person and will self promote my newest Reddie fic called "Turning of Derry" it has five chapters so far and I'm posting the sixth today. So, I hope you all check it out! c:

It was a quarter after 2 am when Eddie heard one of the doors pretty much slam shut; he startled up in bed, Pompeii had yelped and jumped off the bed, barking instantly at the bedroom door that was left ajar.

Eddie swooped out of bed and picked up his dog, tapping twice on Pompeii’s head; the dog settling with still soft growls, and Eddie placed him on the bed before grabbing the baseball bat under the bed.

He crept out in the hall, he heard angry muttering from the living room and Eddie relaxed when he saw Richie’s figure briefly lit up from the oven top light, and wanted him cross back over into the kitchen.

Eddie put the bat down from the swing position he had and went into the living room, propping it against the armchair and called softly for his husband and went into the kitchen.

Richie whipped around, eyes wild, “You can’t be here,” he said forcefully between clenched teeth and moved by Eddie, who was gawking at him, he made his way to his study, it was where he did most his day job work; his sanctuary for when his moods got like this.

Whatever Eddie was demanding from him, Richie tuned it out; he wanted desperately to close the door, keeping his husband safe from himself, he couldn’t let Eddie see him like this. Richie couldn’t hear anything other than the blood pounding in his ears from rage and his hands were shaking as he pushed at the wooden door, but Eddie managed to shove his way through before Richie could shut the door.

That darkness Richie tried to shield Eddie from was racing up his spine, threatening to come out in explosive anger; his hands clenched and unclenched, he was shaking out his hands like they were numb and was trying to shake out the prickly feeling when the circulation starts flowing again, his hands _ached_ to hurt something.

He could never hurt Eddie, he’d never lay a single fucking finger on him like that, because if he did, Richie was no better than the miserable, slimy motherfuckers he took out.

The sheer imagery of ever hurting Eddie had Richie yelling in outrage, “_Goddammit!_” he shouted before slamming his fist straight into the glass frame that held his diploma. 

Blood was in the cracked glass that rained onto the carpeted floor, the pulsing pain shot up Richie’s hand, but he was still so angry that he didn’t feel the pain; his breaths came in and out in hard gasps and it was then, through the buzzing of anger and blood rush ringing in his ears, he realized that Eddie had stopped talking.

He turned slowly and saw that Eddie wasn’t standing near him anymore, his husband was stood with his back against the door, his eyes wide with fear, as his hands covered his mouth, trying to muffle any sound, as if he were afraid that it would set Richie off even more if he so much as even breathed.

That swept his anger away like a strong current, that emotion wad immediately diluted, replaced by fear for his beloved, self-hatred, because _how_ could he have ever lost his cool like that, in front of Eddie?! Richie didn’t have much lack of control of his wrath, but tonight had been horrible—_no_, he couldn’t get worked up about that again.

“Eddie,” Richie called, his voice was a little raspy from his shouting. He saw Eddie flinch when he spoke and Richie felt his stomach drop, “Baby, I’m so sorry you saw that,” he apologized, voice cracking.

Eddie shakily lowered his hands, still staring at Richie with wide, scared eyes, “W-what even _was_ that?” he whispered; the confusion and annoyance he felt earlier when Richie had been ignoring him had been replaced with complete terror to see the love of his life snap like that.

“I’m so sorry you saw that,” Richie repeated. His wounded hand was still clenched in a fist and he winced as he slowly relaxed his hand; his knuckles were bleeding and he was sure he had some glass in his hand, but not once did he look away from Eddie.

Eddie shakily exhaled, “I-I’m going to get the first-aid kit,” he dropped his gaze to Richie’s hand, “and you need to rinse your hand off,” his voice was still meek sounding.

Richie wanted to let himself remain hurt forever, since his outrage had reduced Eddie to this shaken mess. He merely kept his mouth shut and nodded once, waiting until Eddie had managed to get the door open with shaking hands and Richie felt his eyes burn to see how quickly Eddie scurried out of the study.

He followed after his husband much more slowly and into the hallway bathroom, where he saw Eddie fumbling with the linen closet that was inside the bathroom. Richie turned on the water with his uninjured hand and waited until the water heated up and he startled when he felt Eddie’s hands gently encase his hurt one softly, turning it slowly in the light, most likely looking for glass.

“Doesn’t look like you need stitches,” Eddie murmured to himself.

“Sorry for dragging out Dr. K,” Richie apologized meekly.

Eddie merely shrugged and started to gently rinse off the blood, he felt Richie wince when the water came into contact with the wound and Eddie tired to quickly get it over with before gingerly pulling Richie’s hand out from under the faucet and shut the water off before grabbing a clean washcloth and carefully dried off Richie’s hand. 

Richie let himself get sat down on the closed toilet and looked up at Eddie, gaze searching, but his husband avoided eye contact and he dejectedly looked away to his shoes. He let Eddie work quietly with the disinfectant, which he somewhat jerked his hand back at the harsh sting and saw Eddie give him a disbelieving look, “What?”

“You kill people and you can’t even handle antiseptic cream?” Eddie demanded before going back to smearing the cream back over the cuts, but was much gentler about it.

“I still have pain receptors!” Richie huffed sulkily at him, cheeks puffed somewhat, which he knew made him look childish, but he still saw Eddie’s expression soften.

Eddie smoothed over a couple Band-Aids over Richie’s cut knuckles, “Don’t move,” he said as he went to wash his hands thoroughly before drying them. He turned back and saw that Richie was giving him a pensive look and Eddie sighed, “Stop overthinking, I’m not upset with you,” he reassured his husband and saw the way that Richie’s shoulders lessened from the tense position.

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that,” Richie murmured, feeling a shameful blush creep up his face. He startled a bit when Eddie came overo to cup his face; he was expecting his husband to be reclusive for a while.

“What happened, honey?” Eddie asked him gently, thumbs sweeping over Richie’s cheekbones tenderly and he saw how Richie looked hesitant to speak about it.

Richie knew he was fucked regardless, because when Eddie dropped the rare affectionate pet name, he was defenseless to Eddie. He slumped a little, “Do we have to talk about it in the bathroom? It’s super late too…I woke you up,” he tried to deflect the situation.

Eddie was firm in his stance, “I’m awake now and I’m also worried about you,” he pressed and slowly pulled back; he saw how Richie frowned at that. “We can talk about it the kitchen; besides, Pompeii will need to be let out too.”

Richie somewhat begrudgingly followed after Eddie into the kitchen, they didn’t turn on any of the lights, just letting the stove light keep the room in a comforting light and he took a seat as Eddie let out their dog.

When Eddie closed the back door he sat down, offering his hand over the table and Richie held it without hesitation, “Talk to me, Rich,” he pleaded gently and he saw Richie sigh quietly. 

“The job went south,” Richie muttered, “my handler thought this would be a two-man job, infiltration and bring the guy we needed to get info from. The guy who was with me…double-crossed me, I had to kill him,” he could feel himself getting worked up again.

Eddie looked stricken, “Are you hurt anywhere else, Richie? You wouldn’t hide that from me, would you?”

“I’m fine, baby, I promise,” Richie replied. “I think you’d know if I was hurt more, you’ve got that keen sense to sniff out liars and dummies,” he chuckled. He felt his anger dwindle when Eddie’s soothingly stroked his thumb across his uninjured knuckles, “But I got the job done, it was just…upsetting. I…” he trailed off.

Eddie gave him a curious look, “What is it?”

Richie shook his head, letting out a disbelieving laugh, but gave Eddie a soft look, “Nothing, Eds. C’mon, let’s bring our pup in before he freezes outside. I’ll shower and we can spoon,” he mused.

“Richie,” Eddie frowned at him. He saw that Richie wasn’t going to say anything else regarding the same topic and he let out an annoyed sound, but got up to let in their dog, who shot inside, and wriggled at Richie’s feet.

“Good boy!” Richie praised, scooping up their dog and laughed when Pompeii shoved his cold, wet nose into Richie’s neck, snuffling aggressively before sneezing on him and Richie grimaced, “Gross!” he snickered.

“He behaves much like you,” Eddie dryly said and started walking to their bedroom. He watched Pompeii scamper on by to their bedroom and he heard Richie’s much slower steps, Eddie really tried not to be miffed about the whole situation; he never wanted to know what went on with Richie’s job, especially the gory, gritty details, but when it came to Richie’s health and safety, he wanted to know.

He was alone for about twenty minutes or so before Richie got into bed with him, Eddie immediately flipped over so that he could be the big spoon and Richie didn’t fuss, he simply let Eddie slide up against his back, “I’m glad you came home safe to me,” Eddie whispered before tucking his face against Richie’s shoulder.

Richie laced his fingers with Eddie’s hand that was pressed against his stomach, “Me too,” he murmured. He shakily exhaled, “What I couldn’t say earlier…I was scared, Eddie,” Richie’s voice got softer, “I was scared that I was going to die and leave you alone. I was scared what would have happened to you, since I wouldn’t be here to keep you safe.”

“Richie,” Eddie’s voice shook and he felt Richie roll in his embrace, he was gently pushed onto his back and Richie loomed over him, before kissing him slowly, yet firmly. He curled his fingers in Richie’s hair as they kissed; his eyes burned at the thought of never getting to hold Richie like this or kiss him ever again. Eddie pulled back, “Can’t we just leave?”

“Leave?” Richie asked. “Together? What?”

“Our dog, us, we should just leave together, start somewhere new,” Eddie sounded a little frantic. “We could start in a new country, we have enough savings to just leave the fucking country, make a new life somewhere else.”

Richie could see that Eddie was starting to get upset with each word, “Sweetheart, _Eddie¸_ calm down, breathe,” he urged. He rolled onto his side, pulling Eddie to his chest and buried his face into Eddie’s hair, “I don’t want this to stress you out—”

“The idea of you dying from this stupid hitman shit stresses me out!” Eddie spat. He shakily exhaled, “I can’t lose you, Richie! I can’t even fathom the idea of it and I won’t even try to either.”

Richie gently hushed him, “You won’t, Eds,” he promised.

“B-but, you said you were betrayed by one of the guys in your group, who is to say that it won’t happen again?” Eddie asked him quickly. “You don’t, Richie! I don’t know what I’ll do if you…if you…” Eddie couldn’t even say it.

“I will always come back home to you,” Richie promised. “Those motherfuckers don’t have anything to come home to. They just do it for the money, I do it so that it’s one less asshole in the world. I do it so that innocent people don’t get caught in the crossfire, I do it so it’s one less threat that could possibly come in your direction.”

“That’s a far reach,” Eddie frowned up at him. He tucked his face against Richie’s throat, “You worry too much about my safety, when you should be worried about your own when you’re out on the field like that.”

“Maybe, but you’ll always be my main priority, I’ll always worry about you,” Richie reminded him. He kissed Eddie slowly, “You don’t have to panic your pretty little head about nothing.”

“Shut it,” Eddie huffed at him and listened to Richie chuckle. “Promise me, you won’t hide anything like this from me, okay? If…if you get too freaked out after a job, you can tell me.”

“Okay,” Richie promised with a gentle look.

Eddie gave him a smile and kissed him, “Okay.”


	8. Request 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This for my lovely Allison! (Webtrinsic - ya'll should rly check out her stuff too!!!) A bit of a whump chapter, so beware, mentions of gun violence and injury caused by a gun, but non-fatal!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this my dear! c:
> 
> I have one more request after her, the next one to ask is MobsterMonRoe! I have yet to write something like your request before, so it may take me a hot minute lmao, but I hope to have something written soonish! Thank you!

When everything had calmed down and there was nothing stirring in the darkness of the woods other than nocturnal creatures, Richie took a few deep breaths; his sides and lungs burned from basically sprinting through the woods after his target.

He was turning 40 in a fucking year; he was not cutout to be chasing after drug dealers in the dark, especially in the middle of the woods, where Richie was sure he may have twisted his ankle after getting it snagged on someone on the ground.

His whole body felt sore and Richie winced, limping somewhat to sit on a tree that had fallen onto its side and Richie let out a slow breath, grimacing, Jesus fucking _Christ_ that man could run.

Richie hated that it felt like a few years had been shaved of his lifespan, because while not only running after this crazy man, he had been ducking and weaving and zigzagging loosely behind him, because the dude was shooting off his gun any time Richie got too close, but luckily, the magazine had run out and Richie had managed to tackle the guy out and strangled him.

With a soft grunt, Richie pulled himself up and it was then through the biting cold, he could feel warmth in one area near his hip that seemed to soak there and to his thigh, Richie squinted in confusion as he looked down and patted his side, a sharp pain shot up his side that then ran though his entire body and that made him briefly blackout for a second.

“_Fuck!_” Richie practically screamed as he had swayed on his feet. He had quickly pulled back his hand and in the moonlight the blood that coated his hand looked black and heavy feeling settled in his stomach; he thought he was going to throw up.

He had been shot.

~~~

“Love of my life, honey to my bread, the most stunning—”

“Richie,” Eddie cut him off, voice heavy with sleep; his eyes weren’t even open when he had answered his cellphone with a grunt. “If you locked yourself out of the house again because you lost _another_ house key, I’m not making you anymore, because I bet at least half the neighborhood could enter our house by how many copies you have lost.”

“Nope, got my key right here, thanks to this weird, stretchy key loop thingy, _wow_ this curly thing can stretch! Baby, this is the most—”

“Richie,” Eddie cut him off again for the second time, “why are you calling? If you’re still waiting, please don’t try to waste time by talking to me, you _know_ it weirds me out.”

“Or, how hot and flustered you get when I get into hunter mode,” Richie practically purred from the other end.

“I’m hanging up,” Eddie deadpanned.

“Wait!” Richie yelped and heard Eddie’s exasperated sigh. “So…don’t be mad or panic.”

Eddie’s eyes were now open and he seemed more alert, “Richie,” he drawled, “what the fuck is going on?” he demanded worriedly.

Richie could hear the frantic edge starting to color Eddie’s words, “You can’t freak out!”

“I’m going to freak out because you’re telling me not to!” Eddie snapped, sitting up. “Where are you?” he asked, kicking the blankets off him and he heard Pompeii jump to the floor.

“Uh, in the woods,” Richie looked around himself.

“I’m sorry, _where_ the fuck are you?!” Eddie shrilled and he could see Richie wincing from his tone.

“In the woods…” Richie repeated. “Uhh, probably 20 miles out south?” Richie made it sound like a question. “Hang on, I turned on that stalker app.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Richie, you got lost in Europe on our vacation! It’s the only way I could find you,” he reminded his husband stiffly. He put his phone on speaker and opened the app and waited for it to locate Richie’s spot and when the little orange dot blinked on the screen, Eddie’s eyes widened; Richie was about 2 hours out of the state.

“Eddie?” Richie called his husband’s name.

“Richie, you’re 120 miles out! What the fuck are you doing way out there in the middle of the woods in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire?!” Eddie exclaimed. He heard Richie sigh and it sounded far more exhausted than usual, “Richie,” Eddie murmured, a nervous tremor in his voice, “are you okay?”

“I, uh…you think Stan would be able to come get me?” Richie asked, avoiding Eddie’s question. He remembered that their friend and his wife Patty moved to Concord for Patty’s line of work and Stan worked mostly from home, so he was content to go anywhere his wife wanted to go.

“Richie, answer me,” Eddie pleaded and he heard Richie sigh again.

“So, uhh, _Imaybegotshot_,” Richie said in one giant rush.

But being around Richie when they had been kids, going to college together, getting married, moving into a house together, and basically spending every waking moment with Richie meant that Eddie was entirely fluent in the _‘Rushed-Nervous’_ language and Eddie nearly dropped his phone.

“Baby?” Richie squeaked.

“You got fucking _shot?!_” Eddie shrieked and in the corner of his eye, he saw Pompeii run out of the bedroom.

“It’s just a flesh wound! It’s not even fatal!” Richie protested over Eddie’s word gargling. “Hey, hey, _hey_, just let me call Stan and I’ll call you right back, okay? I swear I’m fine, Eddie!”

“No! I’ve already texted him, you fucking don’t do anything other than sit your dumbass down, keep pressure on the wound, and for the love of God, keep fucking talking to me!” Eddie barked. “Oh, my _God!_” he screamed at nothing as he hastily pulled on a robe over his nightclothes and his loafers, grabbed his wallet and keys and he was out the door without another single thought.

His SUV was already had three first-aid kits in it, one the glovebox, one was stored in the storage pouch behind the passenger seat, and in the back in the trunk area in the side bins a much heftier kit was packed.

Pompeii would be fine, Eddie concluded, he had let their dog out around midnight and it was just nearing 2 am, so he got into his SUV, still yammering on a mile a minute to Richie about what he should and shouldn’t do, before connecting his phone to his Bluetooth set up in his car, set up his maps to where Richie was and then was speeding (a little over 15 of the normal speed limit) in his husband’s direction.

Eddie was about 30 minutes into his frantic trip to Richie when he heard his phone beep, notifying him that someone else was calling him as Richie was prattling on about his day.

“Is it Stan?” Richie asked.

Eddie glanced at the screen on his car and saw that it was their friend, “Stay on the line Richie, I’ll make it fast,” he said, voice warbling a bit in fear that if he didn’t have Richie’s attention that he’d lose him.

“I’ll be right here on this log,” Richie promised.

Eddie paused for only a moment, just listening to Richie breathe before hastily answering the call, “I’ll make it fast, Richie’s hurt, he’s in the middle of the fucking woods in Wolfeboro, which is like an hour north of you. I’m on my way to New Hampshire, please tell me you can get him.”

“Eddie, what—”

“There’s no time!” Eddie snapped. “I already text you the locator app and Richie’s info, you can track us both, just _please_, Stan, I have to end this call so I can make sure he stays awake!”

“Okay,” Stan simply replied and confirmed he got the app downloaded and had Richie’s location and he was going to head that direction as soon as he could. “He’s not…dying, is he?” he shakily asked.

“No, but he was shot, don’t ask questions, man, just please trust me,” Eddie pleaded. “I’ll see you both in an hour,” he said.

“Eddie you’re still almost two hours—”

“In. An. Hour. Stanley,” Eddie gritted out and ended the call and resumed his call back with Richie.

“Wow! That’s a record, Sweetcheeks!” Richie crowed.

Eddie relaxed somewhat when he continued to listen to Richie talk and talk and talk, talk until Eddie had crossed into New Hampshire, listening to his husband talk about how pretty the sky way and how big the moon was.

“It would be hot to have some wild woods sex out here,” Richie wistfully sighed.

“It’s 52 degrees out, asshole, your stupid dick would freeze, if you didn’t break your knees, old man,” Eddie huffed and heard Richie chuckle lowly into the phone and while Eddie should have been paranoid off the fucking rails, he still felt a pleased shiver roll up his spine.

“Nah, you’d keep me all warm and you liked my dad bod—_oh_, heya, Staniel!” Richie chirped.

Eddie could hear Stan faintly before their friend started to screech bloody murder that Eddie almost jerked his car off the road and Eddie hastily turned down the volume, “What the _fuck_ was that about?!”

“Oh, he tripped over the dead guy,” Richie supplied unhelpfully.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered.

“Yea, anyway, rescue party is here, I’m guessing I’ll see you soon, babe?” Richie asked his husband.

“Yes, please don’t do anything stupid or say something stupid,” Eddie begged.

“Ooh, you bet’cha,” Richie replied in his stupid Canadian impression. “Love you!” he chirped and then hung up.

Eddie exhaled shakily and pressed more firmly onto the gas.

~~~

When Eddie rolled up to the Uris residence, he spotted Stan’s silver Hybrid, the porch lights were one and so was the chandelier in the dining room and Eddie hastily jumped out of his car, feeling a tad ridiculous in just his pajamas, robe, and loafers, but his husband, who he loved more than anything, was currently hurt and injured and Eddie would have gladly drove out into the night naked if it meant that he could get to Richie faster.

He barely knocked before the door opened and Patty’s bewildered face met his and all he could do was offer an awkward smile before sliding by her and saw her gesture to the dining room and Eddie hurried to where she had pointed to.

Eddie’s gaze immediately locked onto Richie, who was sitting in one of the dining chairs, shirt off, gaze fixed above to the massive archway that lead into the spacious kitchen, while Stan was knelt down in front of Richie, wearing latex gloves, and carefully stitching Richie’s side shut.

Richie did see Eddie appear in his peripheral and he smiled brightly, “There’s the love of life!” he beamed. “Looks like Dr. Uris beat you to it, Dr. K.”

“Richie,” Stan said tersely, “for once in your life, _please_ be quiet,” the man looked stressed. He heard Richie grumbling from above him and Stan looked back at Eddie, his gaze was sharp and questioning and he saw Eddie look away hastily, “I want answers,” Stan demanded.

Patty came back into the dining room, “Would anyone care for tea?” she asked, breaking the tension. She looked over to Eddie, who declined the offer politely, and Patty merely pursed her lips before saying lowly that she was going to make tea for herself then.

Stan finished taping down a square piece of gauze over the bullet wound and slowly rose to his feet with a small grunt, knees popping and he told Richie to shut up when his friend cackled at him. He took his gloves off and trashed them and washed his hands before kissing Patty on cheek when she passed him a mug of Gray Earl, “Hun, you can head off the bed.”

Patty gave shifty eyes over to the other couple before looking back at Stan, “I’ll be reading if you need me,” she said and told the other boys goodnight before heading down the hall and to her and Stan’s bedroom.

As soon as Stan heard the bedroom door shut, Stan pointed at a chair for Eddie to sit down, he saw that Eddie was about to protest, “_Sit_,” Stan said firmly, glaring at Eddie over his reading glasses.

Eddie pursed his lips together angrily for a moment before taking the empty chair next to his husband, “Stan—”

“What the hell were you doing out in the middle of the woods, Richie?” Stan asked, cutting his gaze over to his oldest friend. He saw that Richie looked reluctant to speak, “Rich, you _know_ you can tell me anything,” Stan said gently.

Eddie really tried to bite back the scoff and it sound like a garbled cough and saw that Stan was giving him an inquisitive look, as Richie seemed to sink a little in his seat. He and Richie had been married for 16 years and he had found out a little over a year ago of Richie’s side job, but he _still_ didn’t know for how long Richie had been involved as a hitman.

“_Richie_,” Stan stressed, he briefly looked down the hall at his bedroom before looking back at his two friends, he lowered his voice and leaned forward, “there was a dead man in the woods and you were shot,” Stan said lowly.

“Yea, because that crazy motherfucker jumped me!” Richie scowled. 

“Why were you in the woods anyway?” Stan asked him. “In New Hampshire, two hours out of Maine!”

“I have a sleeping problem, man, I wake up sometimes in different places, but it’s never been this bad before,” Richie said and he looked Stan in the eye. “Stress, depression, fucking name it, buddy.”

“Are you drinking again?” Stan asked him incredulously and looked over to Eddie to confirm this and Eddie then looked at Richie sharply. “Rich,” Stan removed his reading glasses to scrub a hand down his face worriedly. He leaned back in his chair, “I don’t know what’s going on right now, but you two have _always_ been there for each other, you two also are so close that you two tend to forget that we all went through some crazy shit and secrets shouldn’t be hidden.”

“Yea, but if I fucked you on the norm and we lived together, then I’d be all fine with sharing every deep, dark secret inside my fucking head, Uris,” Richie gritted out. “Don’t use Eddie against me, don’t use me against him. You and I are _only _friends, Stanley, you don’t have to know everything about me.”

“I just drove an hour and then tracked you down on foot in the middle of the fucking night, brought you back to my house, and stitched you up with no questions asked, some friends wouldn’t do that for their other friends,” Stan reminded sharply. 

“To that, I thank you,” Richie scoffed. “But with how you’re hounding my ass, I should have just waited for Eddie.”

“You would have bled out,” Stan scowled.

Eddie grew pale in the face at the vivid imagery of him finding Richie lifeless in the woods after hearing his husband’s final breaths over the phone. He took Richie’s hand into his own, “Rich, easy,” he soothed. He looked over to their friend, “Stan, thank you for your help, but…this is a sensitive topic between Richie and I. We’ve…we’ve been trying to find a common ground first for us and soon enough, when Richie feels comfortable, we’ll talk,” he said in the most placating voice he could muster. 

“This still doesn’t explain the dead man in the woods, but whatever,” Stan was still hostile. 

“He’s not dead, Stan,” Richie snapped. “I choked him out, because that’s all I could do after getting _shot_,” he reminded angrily.

“I checked him, Richie,” Stan said softly. “When I fell over him, I went to make sure that he was okay, he had no pulse.”

“_Fuck_,” Richie gawked, slumping back in his chair.

Eddie saw that Richie was giving Stan look like he was genuinely scared, “Richie,” he squeezed at his husband’s hand. “It was entirely in self-defense, wasn’t it?” he asked gently, but he was trying to make this convincing as possible.

“Yes,” Richie nodded urgently. He looked stressed, “This wasn’t supposed to…go like this,” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Why were you out in the woods with him to begin with?” Stan questioned him.

Richie shot a quick gaze over to Eddie before looking down at their joined hands on the table, his shoulders hunched like he was trying to portray guilt, “Because I was fucking stupid,” he whispered. “I didn’t…have enough money for some stuff and the guy was pissed, especially because we were so far out.”

“Drugs,” Stan simply stated and saw Richie flinch, while Eddie’s eyes narrowed somewhat. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat again, “You were in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Rich, I highly doubt this guy will be found. This was your one fuck up card, you don’t get any more chances like this, you need to get help,” his tone was stern, disappointed.

Eddie practically bristled, because Richie still somewhat liked to have Stan’s approval, perhaps it was because they both had stern fathers and absent mothers, they both were Jewish, and most importantly, they were best friends; Stan hadn’t let his homophobic father, nor his religion change his views of Richie nor Eddie, Stan had always supported their relationship.

But it irritated Eddie to hear Stan talk to Richie like this, it stung like he should have been shameful of Richie’s ‘drug’ related activities, even though there were none to the begin with.

“This isn’t meant to be my fight,” Stan said moments later, his tone much gentler as he looked between the two of them. “But know this Richie, I’m in your corner, I’ll always have your back, Rich.”

“Thanks, man,” Richie’s voice was a little thick.

Stan sighed quietly, “Though, I’m not sure what to do about…the guy, but winter is coming fast, the forecast said that snow was to come in the next couple of days, I doubt anyone will be out there anytime soon. It’s not a hunter’s ground, nor is there anything of relevance there for anyone to have any reason to go out there.”

“I hope you’re right,” Eddie murmured.

Stan looked tired, “You two are welcome to crash in the guest room—”

“No,” Eddie interrupted, “we should get home. Thank you again, for everything Stan.”

Richie was nodding.

Stan looked between them again with a worried expression, “Okay, but just text me when you guys get home. Also, keep me posted on your wound, you know if it starts looking irritated, you should go straight to a hospital.”

“I won’t have to worry, I got my Eddie here,” Richie reminded him kindly. He carefully rose up with a wince and squeezed Eddie’s hand tightly, who didn’t even let out a peep of discomfort. He saw Stan coming in for a hug and Richie reluctantly let go of his husband, but was soon soothed to have his good friend hugging him firmly, yet mindful of the gunshot would near his hip.

“Take care yourself man, I mean it,” Stan said, looking up at Richie a bit sternly as he clapped a hand onto Richie’s shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“I will,” Richie replied earnestly and saw the way that Stan was studying his face before stepping away from Richie to round onto Eddie, giving Eddie the same treatment.

“Thank you, Stan,” Eddie said kindly, “and will you thank Patty for us as well?”

“Of course,” Stan smiled fondly, that warm shine came back to his eyes at the mention of his wife.

Richie faked gagged, “You’re still so grossly in love.”

“Like you aren’t?” Stan countered.

Richie looked back at Eddie, the same gooey look in his own eyes, “Yea, maybe you’re onto something, Staniel, maybe I do like Eddie.”

Stan rolled his eyes, “Get on the road, dickhead.”

The couple laughed and thanked Stan again, another round of hugs happened on the porch, before Eddie was gingerly helping Richie into the passenger side of his car.

Stan waved them off and waited to go inside until Eddie pulled away from the curb.

“Holy fucking shit,” Richie breathed, slumping in his seat when they were driving.

“Sit up, don’t pull your stitches!” Eddie snapped worriedly. He did glance over at Richie, “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m honestly just ready to go to bed,” Richie confessed, staring straight out the windshield in the bleak morning sky, the sun had yet to breach the horizon.

“What…what do we do about the guy in the woods?” Eddie asked him softly, hands tightening on the steering wheel and resisted the urge to gag at the thought of having to haul the guy into the trunk of his SUV.

“Don’t worry about it,” Richie replied, “I had text the cleanup crew before I called you,” he glanced at his phone, “Ted and his guys cleaned up and dropped off my car back at the house.”

Eddie exhaled in relief.

“I shouldn’t have called Stan,” Richie sighed.

“You would have…you would have died, Richie,” Eddie whispered, eyes watering.

Richie heard the small break in Eddie’s voice and he gently made a reassuring sound, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I really am,” he apologized sincerely. “I’m sorry I got you all worked up like that.”

“I’m just relieved that you’re going to be okay,” Eddie replied. He shakily took his right hand off the wheel to grab Richie’s left hand that he realized his ring finger was lacking his wedding band, but Richie had told him he nearly lost it on one job and was afraid of losing it, so it usually stayed in his car.

“The best part about this though is that I’ll be on leave for at least a month, because one time, I may have shot my handler in the shoulder, which I’m surprised I didn’t get murdered for, and it took him like two months to recover and my job flow was much slower, so without a doubt, I’ll be free to do whatever I want for a while,” Richie told him happily.

Eddie thought he could feel gray hair starting to come in, “You shot your handler,” he deadpanned.

“Because he was being a dick,” Richie concluded.

“What am I go to do with you?” Eddie groaned.

“Mm, I dunno, maybe keep me in bed and have your wicked way with me?” Richie had a salacious grin on his face and that grin only widened when he saw Eddie swallow. “Is that a yes?” he asked sweetly.

“You’re calling in today, those relators will have to be fine without you for today,” Eddie said firmly.

“Done and done, babe,” Richie mused; he may have lost in the not getting injured department, but he totally won in the favor of his husband.

Damn, maybe he should get shot more often.


	9. Request 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a request from MobsterMonroe! - Also, warning for non-con for choking. 
> 
> I also apologize in advance, bc this was much shorter than I anticipated and while I toyed at the idea of them having an argument, but if you think about it (which is a no-brainer lmao)....strangling your significant other in the heat of the moment during an argument is pretty much leading into a divorce/restraining order, so "heat of the moment" is for sex lmao 
> 
> Anywho, self promotion time AGAIN, blease feel free to check out my current fic in process "Turning of Derry" AND my new fic that I'm about to post, called "Veil of Gray"
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoy this, sorry it sucks, and hopefully check out my other works, which sorry if those suck too afjaldfj - Idk, the jury still stands out there...judgingly watching from afar at my dumpster fire writing skills.

It had been a while since Eddie and Richie could finally have a moment to themselves, they had been busy meeting up with co-workers and work projects, before both of them were just busy with their individual work in general.

Accounting got backed up, so Eddie was doing overtime and usually by the time Eddie would get home, he’d be too exhausted to stay up and wait for Richie to get home, especially if he prepared dinner and put the leftovers in the fridge for his husband to eat later.

Richie was working long hours, shuffling couples and families through houses on the market, working long annoying hours trapped in the office regarding paperwork of closeouts, then he was back in the saddle with his side job.

Overall, the both of them were just exhausted and missed each other.

It didn’t help that during the New Year that Richie and Eddie were hosting for the party, but they didn’t complain because their friends from childhood all came over it was nice to rekindle with them, talking about everything and everything.

It was so nice seeing them all, even if Stan seemed to be hovering around Richie more than normal, Eddie let it slide, just sharing amused glances with Richie every now and again.

Then around 2 am, their friends were hugging each other goodbye, kisses on cheeks, promises to text when they made it to their hotels, or their houses, and Richie and Eddie watched them all drive off.

“Really, you’re awake enough to the dishes?” Richie’s voice rumbled lowly against Eddie’s ear as he slid up behind his husband, who was up to his elbows in suds. He wrapped his arms gently around Eddie’s waist, tucking face against Eddie’s neck, pressing soft kisses against his skin.

Eddie nodded, “Tomorrow is a lazy day, I promise,” he replied and smiled faintly as Richie kisses his cheek, squeezing his arms around him for just a moment. He leaned back against Richie as he rinsed off a plate, “We should go on an extended weekend vacation,” he said suddenly.

“Vacation?” Richie repeated. “Sure you’re not still floating on champagne bubbles, babe?” he mused. He wasn’t against it, he was just surprised that Eddie brought it up first, since really, the last vacation they had was probably was when Eddie had a business meeting in Florida and Richie came along for the ride and he had hung out with Bill and Mike the majority of the time, since Eddie was in a suit, trapped in a conference room with other stuffy businessmen.

Eddie shook his head, “I think it would be nice to get away together for a few days, change of scenery, we could drop Pompeii off with Ms. Norris for a few days,” he said as he rinsed off the rubber gloves he wore while doing the dishes before pulling them off and let them dry in the dishrack too.

“Oh?” Richie practically purred turning Eddie to gently push him up against the counter to kiss him. He heard Eddie hum, “Yea? Vacation time so we can get messy like we’re college kids again?” he teased.

“You’ll end up blowing your own back out, Rich,” Eddie teased, looking up at him, dark eyes twinkling in amusement. He tugged Richie back down into a kiss, “We don’t have to wait until we go on vacation though,” he murmured.

“Yea, what the fuck, Eds, we’re not fucking saving each other’s virginities until we’re married,” Richie laughed. He curled his fingers in Eddie’s beltloops and yanked Eddie against him, “Still could make it feel good like the first time though.”

“You literally lasted eight seconds and your dick wasn’t even _in_ me all the way,” Eddie scoffed. “Or was I just _that_ good?” he mused, practically smirking up at Richie. 

Richie hummed as he leaned back down to kiss Eddie, “I was a sex fiend in training,” he defended himself and heard Eddie scoff. He yanked Eddie in close by the beltloops again, feeling how his husband bounced off him and back against the counter again, seeing how Eddie’s eyes seemed to darken, “Let’s go,” Richie said. 

Eddie let Richie walk him backwards again towards their bedroom as he had done before; he didn’t think he’d ever tire of Richie getting a bit rowdy with him and he most definitely would never tire of how broad Richie was, perhaps the hitman business wasn’t so bad, especially with how strong Richie’s shoulders were, how toned and strong his arms were when they pushed Eddie down on their bed.

Richie wasn’t much in the mood for foreplay, practically stripping fast enough like his clothes were on fire and basically yanked Eddie’s own jeans off and shirt over his head. He dragged Eddie over to him by gripping him from under his knees, listening to Eddie chuckle, leaving his arms sprawled over his head as he looked up at Richie amusedly, “You look good like this,” Richie said, voice low with want.

“Yea?” Eddie asked, tilting his head.

“Yea,” Richie echoed, sliding over Eddie and gripped his chin to kiss him a bit roughly, he wouldn’t lie, his blood was pumping hotly; he hadn’t touched Eddie in practically a month, other than rushed kisses as he was hurrying off to work in the morning, and nightly kisses that were just on the cheek or forehead, since his husband would be already asleep in bed after a long day of his own.

Eddie remained basically boneless under Richie, letting his husband control the moment, he moaned, bending his legs as Richie ground down against him, “Gonna fuck me, or just rut against me like you’re a fucking teenager again?” he snapped.

“Already a savage, mouthy _bitch_ in this brand-new year, huh?” Richie asked hotly. He thought he heard a growl escape Eddie and Richie felt his dick twitch and he was quick to get Eddie prepared and with each slow push of his fingers, he listened to Eddie moan, watched him roll his hips, watched him curl his fingers into the sheets, trying to ground himself.

And then Richie was sliding into Eddie and was rolling his hips the moment Eddie locked his legs around his waist, he moved forward to lean on his forearm as he rocked into Eddie, feeling his husband dig his nails into his shoulders and Richie snapped his hips forward, hearing Eddie groan loudly, moaning more and more until Eddie was gasping that was seemingly to get wheezier until it was muted and Richie pulled back and his eyes widened in shock at the sight.

His hand was tight around Eddie’s throat, his fingers constricting around Eddie’s slim neck perfectly; he could see the veins straining against the blotchy red skin of Eddie’s neck and Richie yanked his hand back in fear, hearing Eddie suck in a large breath before coming over the both of them and Richie was mortified of what he had done to the point that he had practically was soft inside Eddie.

“Why’d you stop?” Eddie rasped, blearily looking up at Richie, his fingers were tightly gripping Richie’s biceps.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Richie pulled out of his husband. “I was fucking _strangling_ you,” he said weakly. He saw that Eddie didn’t look too bothered by it, “Eddie,” Richie called.

“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow at him. He saw Richie’s bewildered expression, “What?”

“What the fuck do _you _mean _what_?” Richie demanded. “I was choking you!”

“And I liked it, so what?!” Eddie’s face was getting red and Richie was relieved that it was from anger and not because he couldn’t breathe. 

Richie was gawking, “And you were just okay with it?” he asked, disbelief in his tone. He disliked that it looked like Eddie was gazing at him with such bewilderment that he was overreacting, like it was trivial and not the fact that he had almost strangled Eddie to death.

“If I wasn’t, I would have—”

“What, said something?” Richie scoffed, he leaned over to snatch up his boxers and yanked them off; he was more disgusted with himself that he had done something like that to Eddie.

Eddie looked baffled, “Richie?”

“I could have _killed_ you, Eddie,” Richie whispered.

“No, baby, you wouldn’t have,” Eddie protested immediately, pulling Richie close to him. He stifled the grimace he felt pulling at his lips when he felt his half-dried cum rubbing between his and Richie’s stomachs.

Richie wanted to argue, but Eddie wouldn’t let him speak, silencing him with a kiss, and Richie practically was powerless when Eddie’s fingers wove into his hair. He lightly shook his head, pulling back, until his husband had to let him go, “We gotta talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Eddie sighed unhappily. “I need to clean myself up first,” he said firmly.

“Eddie,” Richie practically groaned, “why are you being like this?”

“Why are you being like this?” Eddie shot back at him. 

Richie frowned, “Because I’m making sure you’re okay,” he replied. “Eddie, you have to know that I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know,” Eddie was sincere. He kissed Richie again, “But you know that I love you and trust you and I know that you’d never put me in harm’s way.”

Richie felt his eyes water, “You’re so gay,” he whispered, voice cracking and he laughed when Eddie gave him a bitchy look. “And that’s okay, because I’m so fucking gay for you.”

“Sure hope so, we’ve been married for almost 20 years, Rich,” Eddie flatly replied.

“Don’t make us sound so old!” Richie whined. 

“Rich, we’re almost 40,” Eddie reminded. “I’m almost 40, with a choke kink, sue me.”

“Ooh,” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “So, vacation time is gonna be fun, _right_?” he asked.

“I suppose so,” Eddie with faux annoyance. He chuckled when Richie kissed his cheeks and forehead, “Stop it,” he mused and lightly pushed Richie back, “I’m gross, let me clean up.”

“Well, since you discovered your new choking kink, mine is you covered in my—”

“Shut. _Up,_” Eddie gritted out. He shot Richie a glare over his shoulder when his husband smacked his bare ass, “I take it back, we’re not going on a vacation at all now.”

“Can I still choke you and cover you in my jizz?”

“Richie, I’m literally restraining myself from divorcing you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a no to me, sweetcheeks.”

“And we’re divorced.”


End file.
